A Flux of Power
by Loopstagirl
Summary: When Merlin loses control of his magic, leaving feels like the only option left open to him. But running away had never been a solution, not when Arthur's life is in danger.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights belong to their respective owners._

 _Figured it was time for a new story. I'll warn you now, I wasn't entirely pleased with how this turned out, but hopefully you'll like it!_

* * *

Merlin's feet slipped as he skidded around a corner. He shot out both hands, one touching the wall to try and keep him steady and the other letting a spiral of magic to act as a crutch. He was late enough as it was; the last thing he needed was to add dishevelled to the list of insults the king was going to throw his way. A maid giggled off to one side and Merlin shot her a charming grin even as he straightened up. She blushed, glanced away and quickly disappeared. He rolled his eyes at that.

There would have been a time when he could have joined in her laughter. She would have blushed, but only because joking with the manservant to the king of Camelot was the closest she was going to get to Arthur himself. Now – as High Court Warlock – Merlin felt the distance between his new life and his old. He hadn't changed. Arthur hadn't changed. But repealing the ban on magic had changed everything about Merlin's life. He barely even recognised himself as the boy who had stumbled into Camelot all those years ago.

The thought was a sobering one and he slowed his pace. He had only held his new position for a few months and knew it was going to take much longer than that before he felt at ease with having authority. Power he was used to: it had danced from his fingertips since before he could walk. But this was different. People listened to him now. No longer was he brushed off and dismissed as if his opinion didn't count for anything. Even Arthur had been known to seek his counsel. Then again, Merlin knew he had been advised the king for longer than Arthur wanted to admit, it was just common knowledge now.

Merlin had managed to catch his breath and smooth down his tunic – the new clothes had been Arthur's idea – before reaching the Great Hall. He could hear the rumble of people inside and winced. He knew he was late, but it seemed the feast was truly underway. He wondered if he was better slinking back to Gaius' chambers and pretending there had been an emergency rather than face Arthur's wrath. But unless he could produce evidence of said emergency, he knew Arthur wouldn't believe him. Merlin knew he needed to come up with some new excuses.

Taking a deep breath and reminding himself that Arthur had accepted his magic and would have to try harder to find an excuse to kill him, Merlin slipped through a servant's door. The majority of the guests didn't look up from their meal. But Arthur's head whipped and his gaze settled into a steady glare when he saw it was Merlin sneaking in late. Merlin offered him a helpless shrug and a grin before taking his seat.

It still felt weird to be sitting at the feasts rather than serving. Merlin's seat was to Arthur's left. Gwen was sitting on Arthur's right-hand side, her hand lightly touching Arthur's arm even though she was turned away and conversing with Mithian. With no danger looming and no rivalry for Arthur's affections, the two women had become good friends over the last few years. Mithian had the practical mind of a commoner while Gwen could carry off the airs and graces of a princess. It made sense they sought each other's company during times of celebration. Leon sat on Mithian's other side and Merlin's smile turned to a smirk. He wondered how long it would be before the knight would pluck up the courage to voice his feelings out loud. Since Arthur had married Gwen, the boundaries between status no longer seemed important.

Percival was on Merlin's other side, chatting to a noble that Merlin didn't know. He knew the knight still felt the loss of Gwaine and the others deeply, despite the time passing. Merlin knew all too well how he felt. While he might have reached Avalon in time to save Arthur's life, the cost had still been too high and guilt ate away at his soul despite knowing he couldn't save everyone. But despite everyone around them talking, Merlin instantly became aware of Arthur's steely gaze on him and he looked at his king while reaching for a plate of chicken.

"Where have you been?" Arthur hissed, grabbing his wrist. Merlin winced, wriggling his fingers and causing harmless sparks to fall from them. Arthur let go abruptly and Merlin took the food.

"I got caught up," he said truthfully. Arthur lifted an eyebrow.

"I didn't realise asking you to attend one feast was too much of a hardship, _Mer_ lin."

"Ask? You ordered me to come on pain of death."

"So dramatic," Arthur scoffed. But he turned away and didn't press the point. Merlin rolled his eyes, settling back in his chair and beginning to eat. He had been helping Gaius and had lost track of time while brewing up some strengthening tonics for children in the lower town who were falling foul of a nasty flu that was spreading fast. He knew Arthur might complain about him being late, but he wanted to help the people as much as Merlin did.

"Did you miss me?" Merlin teased. He reached for his goblet and Arthur snatched it away.

"I'm not letting you near the wine. Do you remember what happened last time?"

"He deserved it," Merlin muttered. The tips of his ears coloured. He had got a little carried away after being proclaimed High Warlock but he still maintained it wasn't his fault that Lord Edgar's hair had suddenly found itself adorned with flowers. He had been insulting Arthur and if even Merlin could pick up the insult – the subtleties of court were lost on him – then everyone could. Merlin might have succeeded in his destiny of getting Arthur on the throne, but that didn't mean he was through with protecting the prat just yet. Still, he dropped his hand and let Arthur win this round.

"What did I miss?"

"Only the part where I was supposed to say how much stronger Camelot was for having a reliable source of magic protecting her."

"Ah." Merlin looked down at his plate before looking up at Arthur. "What did you end up saying?"

"That my useless toad of a high warlock was off gallivanting and we should skip the speeches and just eat."

Merlin rolled his eyes, knowing full well that Arthur had gone through with his speech anyway. The day Merlin was exactly where he was supposed to be at the time Arthur had ordered him to be there was the day Camelot was truly in danger. Merlin had made it quite clear when he had agreed to take the position that he wasn't going to change and a fond look had crossed Arthur's face before he had concealed it. This was who they both were, complaints, insults and lateness included.

Loud and angry voices drew their attention. Arthur was out of his seat, his hand resting on the hilt of Excalibur before Merlin had even identified where the voices were coming from. Two nobles had sprung to their feet, one drawing a knife as both of their faces flushed with anger. Instantly, Leon and Percival rose, hands going to their own weapons. To draw a blade in the presence of the king unless it was to protect him was treason. But Merlin knew this was no act of treachery, just a few insults gone wrong.

"What is the meaning of this?" Arthur bellowed. Anyone who hadn't noticed the conflict now swivelled in their seats. One of the nobles went ashen, realising things had escalated. But the other refused to put his blade down.

"He insulted the honour of my wife!"

Merlin snorted. As soon as the man had stood, he had recognised the noble. His wife had no honour, Merlin would be surprised if she ever had. He heard a soft laugh and glanced around Arthur to see Gwen was clearly thinking the same. More than once this man's wife had tried to proposition Arthur, only to find out that once a servant, always a servant and both Merlin and Gwen had worked together to scupper her plans.

Arthur shot him what was supposed to be an annoyed look and Merlin tried to look contrite. But he had been on the receiving end of Arthur's annoyance. This was not it. The king looked like he was trying not to laugh himself.

"We are at a feast, gentlemen. I suggest you let the matter pass." A suggestion from the king was an order. But the man's grip on his knife tightened.

"I will not…"

Having had enough, Merlin waved his hand. The knife turned into a flower, one Merlin didn't even recognise. Arthur relaxed his grip on Excalibur and sat down, clearly dismissing the confrontation. It took Leon and Percival a few more moments to relax, wanting to be certain the danger had passed. But as the rest of the hall erupted into laughter and the noble slunk out, embarrassment written into the slump of his shoulders, both knights retook their seats.

"What is it with you and flowers?" Arthur asked. Merlin shrugged, grinning as he sat back comfortably in his chair.

"He might need it to woo his wife back after she hears that he didn't defend her honour the way she desires."

Arthur laughed, carefree and light before he could stop himself. The sound made Merlin grin. He never would have thought that Arthur would have found such joy in magic. But the speech Merlin had missed – but knew what it said because he had written most of it – had been true. Camelot was stronger now magic could be used to protect the kingdom and Merlin felt a swell of happiness whenever he thought back to what they had achieved together compared to their first meeting.

"Talking of women," Arthur began. Merlin saw Gwen shoot her husband a look before realising he wasn't about to insult her accidentally. "Aithusa has been seen as far north as Greenhill. Is she supposed to be that far out on her own?"

Merlin didn't attempt to disguise his grin. After Morgana's death and Arthur's near-miss, he had sought out the young dragon. It had taken time to gain her trust, but he wasn't a dragonlord for nothing. Once Arthur was over the initial shock, Merlin had found a fierce protector of the young dragon. Anything helpless and innocent made Arthur pledge to protect them. But Aithusa was growing and Merlin knew she was far from defenceless.

"She is fine," he said confidently. "As long as no one tries to harm her."

"They wouldn't dare," Arthur growled and Merlin laughed. He shook his head when the king demanded to know what was so funny. Their conversation became muted when the servants delivered dessert, but Merlin only picked at it. Even after months of being in this position, he still wasn't used to the unlimited supply of food he was suddenly allowed to consume. Arthur turned to converse with his wife and Merlin took the opportunity to fill up his goblet.

He sat back contently, sipping at it as he watched the guests. For the most part, they looked happy and content. But whenever Merlin's gaze lingered over a few who were talking in tones quieter than required, he used magic to extend his hearing. Twice he gestured to the guards, alerting them to potential problems. A lot of the guards had a small amount of magic nowadays and Merlin could make his meaning clear without having to open his mouth. Anyone who even whispered a treasonous thought would get a visit later that evening. But this wasn't the Camelot under Uther – they would be spoken to and their issues attempted to be addressed before words turned into actions.

Merlin knew that since he had vowed to protect Arthur, he had been protecting Camelot. It was strange doing it so openly. But once he was satisfied that everything was as it should be, he couldn't prevent himself from yawning. It had been a long and trying day and the last thing he needed was to be sitting here late into the night.

"Can't handle it, Merlin?" Of course, Arthur had seen his moment of weakness despite the fact Merlin believed he had been facing the other way.

"I'm fine."

"Come on," Arthur said. He pushed back his chair and grabbed Merlin's arm. His hand fleetingly touched Gwen's shoulder and she smiled, nodding. Merlin rolled his eyes at how they communicated without words, but then realised he had a bigger problem not tripping over his own feet as Arthur unceremoniously dragged him back out of the same door Merlin had entered by. He knew none of the guests would have even seen him leave.

"What are you doing?"

"With the wine you've had? I don't trust you to get back to Gaius' chambers in one piece."

Merlin gave Arthur a knowing look. "You were bored, weren't you?"

"Shut up."

"You know – being king – you could just skip the feasts completely?"

"It's an important part…"

"Whatever," Merlin said. He tried to cover up another yawn and failed. Arthur prodded him in the arm to make him keep walking and Merlin realised he had stopped again. He doggedly put one foot in front of the other, He had only had one goblet of wine, but he was so tired that Gaius' chambers seemed too far away.

"I really wish you had taken those new rooms," Arthur moaned. Merlin noticed that he didn't move away though, but kept pace with him as they walked down the corridor.

"I don't need them," Merlin said. He made to say something else but Arthur held up a hand, stopping him. Instantly, the tiredness drained away and Merlin felt his magic surge in his body. Arthur was alert and tense, his free hand once again going to Excalibur.

"What is it?" Merlin said, his gaze flickering around them. When all was quiet, Arthur shook his head.

"I thought I heard something."

Neither of them got the chance to take even a step before a tremendous bang echoed down the corridor and both king and warlock were thrown off their feet. Merlin quickly cushioned their fall with magic and sprung up again. His hand was raised, palm facing outwards and eyes aglow. Arthur stood up, but Merlin deliberately stepped forward until he was in front of the king.

To start with, no one was there. But then the same noble from before rounded the corner. Even from the distance he was at, Merlin could see the solid gold flooding the man's eyes. His hand was also outstretched and Merlin heard Arthur curse. Despite having let magic return to the kingdom, Merlin knew that Arthur hated it when threats came from a magical source. The king simply had no way of fighting against that sort of power and Arthur hated to feel out of control.

"Back down, Lord Owaine," Arthur called, "step away now and this can all be forgotten."

"Are you mad? He just tried to kill you-," Merlin's protests died when he glanced back at Arthur. Now was not the time. He had to focus on keeping the man alive and safe. He stopped talking and turned his attention back to the threat, magic dancing from his fingertips.

"You cannot defeat me, Owaine," he said. "Don't try. For your own sake, for the sake of your wife and family, don't try and fight me."

He hated killing with magic. He always had done. But if that was what it took to keep Arthur safe, then Merlin knew he couldn't hesitate. He had hesitated with Morgana. And with Mordred. Everything had nearly been destroyed because of it.

"This isn't your fight," Owaine called. Merlin shook his head sadly.

"You're threatening my king, you have made it my fight." He stepped forward, keeping his hand in front of him. Although he could feel the magic pulsing through him – making him feel alive and vibrant – Merlin was careful to keep it in check until the time was right. Owaine had to be given a chance.

But Merlin waited too long. Owaine shouted a word and Merlin's skin prickled. Dark magic. He quickly drew a shield, wrapping it tightly around Arthur as the magic streaked past him. He was vaguely aware of Owaine making a run for it, but Merlin had other things to worry about. Namely the fact the magic had ratcheted and was heading towards him in a streak. Merlin didn't have time to draft another shield.

"Move!" Arthur's shout filled the corridor and Merlin snapped out of his daze. He threw himself to one side but he was too late. The magic caught his shoulder and sent him spinning into the wall. Merlin formed another shield, blocking the whole corridor, but the magic had already disappeared. It had as soon as it had touched Merlin.

Sitting up, Merlin gingerly felt his shoulder. His hand came away sticky with blood. It didn't explain the way his head was throbbing and his stomach was rolling. For a moment, Merlin felt the desire to laugh; he hadn't had that much wine, had he?

But then Arthur was crouched in front of him, Excalibur in his hand and a concerned look on his face.

"Can you hear me?"

"Of course," Merlin scoffed. He ignored Arthur's outstretched hand and made it to his feet. Arthur shadowed his every movement carefully. Merlin stood upright and grinned at Arthur. "See?"

"Merlin, your nose…"

Merlin wiped the back of his hand across his nose, staring at the red streak on his hand. He touched it again, and again his fingers came away stained with blood. He didn't understand, didn't know what the magic had done.

"Oh," he said. Then he promptly passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so much for the reviews! A special thank you to guest and Ltchoz to whom I can't respond directly!  
_

 _I hope you enjoy this next chapter!_

* * *

"Merlin? Merlin, can you hear me?"

"Yes." Merlin gingerly lifted a hand to feel his head before opening his eyes. When he did so, it was to find Gaius looming over him, concern etched into his aged face. Merlin dropped his hand and attempted to grin.

"I'm fine. Honest. I just got a little dizzy, that was all." Merlin was being truthful; he felt fine. The last thing he wanted was for Gaius to worry. Arthur's brush with death at Mordred's hands had left its mark on the physician and Gaius had aged decades since the battle at Camlann. While Merlin felt the same way, he knew it was far more dangerous for his mentor.

"He got hit with dark magic. His nose was bleeding. Then he fainted."

Merlin looked to one side to see Arthur standing there with his arms folded. Merlin glared and Arthur lifted an eyebrow.

"Like a girl," he continued. He clearly had no intention of letting Merlin shrug this off. While Merlin would have felt touched by his concern – not that Arthur would admit it – it didn't aid his plan to stop Gaius from worrying. One look at the old man's face and he knew it was too late.

"Did you recognise the spell?"

Defeated, Merlin shook his head. He eased himself up into a sitting position and swung his legs off the bed. He hid a grin, knowing Arthur would have brought him back personally rather than summoning the guards. Merlin also knew that his king wouldn't have left the room the entire time he had been unconscious.

"Make another move and I'll have you cleaning out the stables," Arthur warned.

"I'm not your servant anymore."

"No, but I'm still your king meaning you have to do what I say."

Arthur might be the king and Merlin might be the High Warlock of Camelot, the first of that title. But there was only one response he could make to Arthur's words. Merlin pulled a childish face and Arthur smirked back, satisfied he had won.

"Arthur's right, Merlin," Gaius said. No doubt he wanted to interfere before the pair of them could start bickering in earnest. "You need to take it slow."

"I'm just sitting," Merlin said. He held up his hands to show that he was fine, only to find he wobbled alarmingly as he did so. He quickly put them back down again, pressing his palms against the bed in order to balance himself.

"Could you fetch me some more water, Sire?" Gaius asked respectfully. Arthur nodded and left the room. Merlin knew Gaius was the only one who could ask such a task from Arthur and his words would be obeyed rather than met with scorn. But Merlin also knew that Arthur was worried about him, and he would help the physician if it meant he could indirectly help his friend. It was only through the years they had been by each other's side that had allowed Merlin to read Arthur's behaviour in a way no one else could.

Once the door had shut behind the king, Gaius perched on a stool opposite his ward. Merlin shifted at the intense look the old man gave him.

"And now the truth?"

Merlin sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He knew he couldn't lie to Gaius.

"I don't know," he said honestly. "It was dark, but I didn't recognise the spell. I shielded Arthur and it bounced off. I didn't have time to protect myself. It only just touched me and I didn't feel magic, just the impact itself, like it was something solid. Then my nose was bleeding and I passed out."

"And how do you feel now?"

Merlin thought about his answer. Then he shrugged. "A little weak, but fine. What sort of spell do you think it was?"

"I don't know," Gaius said slowly. He eased himself off the stool and moved to his table. Merlin guessed what was coming next and sure enough, Gaius began flickering through his books. "It could be your magic absorbed the attack, that it won't harm you because you've already counter-acted the spell."

"See," Merlin said. He stood up himself, bracing himself for a moment but then grinning when there was no dizziness. "I'm fine."

"You don't look it."

Merlin looked to the door to see Arthur had returned and was standing with a pitcher of water in his hand. He moved in and set it down on the table.

"In fact, you look positively horrendous. Ghastly. The maids will faint in terror at the sight of you."

Merlin glared and Arthur pretended to a double-take. "No, wait, that's just your usual look."

"Very funny." Merlin turned back to Gaius, fully aware that Arthur was listening intently as well. The king might not show his concern, but that didn't mean he didn't feel it. "So what's the verdict? Am I alright?"

"For now." Gaius fixed him with a stern look. "But I want you to take it easy for a few days."

"You know me," Merlin said with a charming grin. Gaius' expression didn't change and Merlin knew that both the physician and Arthur were going to be breathing down his neck for the next few days. His smile slipped and he looked to his king. "We should return to your chambers."

"We? As you like to remind me, _Mer_ lin, you're no longer my servant. I don't need your assistance any more this evening."

"But…"

"Stay here," Arthur said firmly. "Get some rest."

Arthur turned on his heel and walked out. He paused in the doorway and looked back one more time though. Merlin forced himself to smile, knowing that Arthur was visually checking him over and making sure that he was alright.

"Thank you," Arthur said. Then he disappeared before Merlin had the chance to be surprised or say anything back. He ran his hand through his hair, then realised how exhausted he was. They had left the feast because of his yawning as it was, having to fend off a magical attack did nothing to replenish one's energy levels. Merlin didn't realise Gaius was watching him closely.

"Go to bed, Merlin," he said. "I'll look into this."

"You do realise I'm the High Warlock of Camelot, right?" Merlin asked. "I'm pretty sure that means you can't send me to bed."

Gaius lifted an eyebrow and Merlin hurried up the steps to his room as fast as possible, the back of his neck burning. He hadn't wanted to leave Gaius; it was why he had refused to move to new chambers when Arthur had given him his official status.

Part of that reason was because the old man could still make Merlin feel like a child. Merlin wanted that: he had so much power at his disposal and no reason to hide any longer that he wanted someone to tell him what to do, who had never cared about his gifts. Gaius was that person, the one to keep him grounded and to stop Merlin from letting the power go to his head.

Crashing down on his bed, Merlin buried his face in the pillow and flicked his hand at the door. Gaius might keep him grounded, but Merlin didn't hesitate when it came to using tricks to make his life easier. He had spent years hiding it, he didn't see why he should now. But the door banged shut so hard that Merlin rolled over and sat up, hoping it was his imagination that there was now a crack snaking up the wall.

Deciding there was nothing he could do about it– Gaius had told him to rest, after all – Merlin settled back against the pillows. He sighed, trying to let go of the tension he could feel building in his body. It had been a while since someone had last tried to kill Arthur and Merlin knew he had been fooling himself into a false sense of security. If Arthur had left the feast without him, he could be dead by now.

The thought made Merlin shiver. He contemplated going to the king's chambers, just to make sure Arthur was still breathing. Owaine wouldn't dare attack the king again. He wouldn't risk Merlin's wrath, not tonight. Arthur would tell Gwen what had happened, who would pass on a message to Leon when Arthur wasn't listening and Leon would double the guard. Merlin was hardly the only one who knew how to react when Arthur's life was in danger. If Leon was truly worried, he would employ the knights Merlin had been training to stand guard while he went to hunt down Owaine himself.

Realising that was making him worry about Leon as well. Merlin slammed his head back against the pillow. He had meant what he had said when he claimed that he was feeling fine. But although physically he was alright, an unpleasant feeling was coiling in his stomach. Merlin didn't want to tell Gaius; he was half-convinced it was only nerves over what had happened. It hadn't eased – nor had it got worse since worrying over Arthur again. It simply was there, and Merlin didn't like it.

Eventually though, Merlin realised it was exhaustion was making him shiver. He yanked the blanket out from under himself and positioned it on top of his body. The warmth seeped into him and Merlin yawned. He would worry about Owaine and what the spell had done in the morning. Right now, he wanted to sleep.

Just as he was drifting off, Merlin felt a tickle building in the back of his throat. He reached out blindly for the cup of water he always kept on his nightstand. His fingers closed on thin air though and Merlin groaned when he realised it must be out of reach. He lifted his head and glared in the general direction of the cup. Releasing a small burst of magic, Merlin willed the cup into his outstretched hand.

To his surprise, nothing happened. He concentrated harder. This time, the cup slammed into his hand so hard that Merlin drew his arm back with a cry. The cup didn't stop there though, but instead shot across the room and smashed against the opposite wall.

"Merlin?" Gaius' voice reached him seconds before the physician pushed open the door, a candle in his hand. Merlin sat up, staring at the mess.

"Sorry," he murmured. "I'll just…" He gestured feebly, not being sure what he was trying to say. Before he could get out of bed though, Gaius crossed the room and perched on the edge. His position meant the blanket trapped Merlin's legs and he had no choice but to stay where he was.

"What happened, Merlin?" Gaius asked. His voice was soft and kind and Merlin could see in his expression that Gaius knew this has been something more than an accident.

"I don't know," Merlin whispered. His voice shook and glancing down, he saw his hand was trembling. He quickly clenched it into a fist and hid it under the blanket. "I think…."

He broke off, again conflicted as to what to say. When he looked at the mess on the floor, however, he knew he had to come clean. "I think it's my magic. I shut the door and it slammed. I tried to move the cup and you can see for yourself what happened."

Merlin looked up, forcing himself to meet Gaius' gaze. "It's out of control. I can feel it. It wasn't just an accident, it's completely out of control."

"Come now," Gaius said. His voice was kind and he patted Merlin's leg through the blanket. "You're tired and you're upset-,"

"I am not!"

"- your magic is bound to play up a little. And don't lie to me, Merlin, I know someone attacking Arthur will have got to you."

Merlin dropped his gaze. Gaius knew him too well; he always had done. But Merlin shook his head sadly.

"What if it isn't though? What if I wake up and I'm still out of control?"

"Then, my boy," Gaius said, standing up, "we'll cross that bridge in the morning. Get some rest, Merlin. You'll feel better."

Gaius left the room and Merlin was grateful he took the candle with him. Even after all this time, he could vividly recall the terror in Morgana's eyes when she had flared up her candle while discovering her magic. Merlin had never had to go through that, and he vowed that wasn't about to change now.

Lying in the dark, Merlin listened to his breathing as a way of trying to keep himself calm. The feeling in his stomach didn't settle and Merlin could feel his magic pulsing angrily through his body. He had been in control ever since he knew he was different. Yet right now, he felt like if he focused his thoughts on one thing for too long, his magic would react. Even thinking about it made him shudder, hoping he didn't destroy himself in his sleep.

Despite thinking that he wouldn't get any rest, Merlin surprised himself by falling asleep. He kept forgetting he had been genuinely tired before all of this anyway. Other than getting himself more tangled in his blankets than normal, Merlin managed to sleep the night through.

He could have happily dozed the morning away as well. But regardless of insisting Merlin wasn't his servant any longer and so wasn't required to wait on the king all hours of the day, Arthur never let Merlin sleep in. The door banging open drew him from his slumber seconds before the blankets were whipped away, exposing him to the cold morning air. Merlin yelped and dived forward, wrestling them out of Arthur's hands again.

"What are you doing?" He grumbled, trying to get warm. Arthur stood at the end of his bed with his hands on his hips.

"I thought you would be up and investigating why Sir Owaine tried to kill me last night," Arthur said mildly. "As both my protection and Camelot's seem to rest in your incapable hands most of the time."

Merlin glared at his former master, but knew the effect was lost by the way he was peering over the top of the blanket at Arthur. When Arthur didn't move, Merlin rolled his eyes and pulled himself from his bed. Arthur still didn't move.

"You need to leave," Merlin told him pointedly. He was in his nightshirt with bare-feet. He was not about to change in front of Arthur. For a moment, he didn't think Arthur would go. But then the king stalked down the stairs. Merlin made to use magic to shut the door, then stopped himself and closed it manually. He wasn't ready to find out yet if his magic was still acting up. He changed quickly and slipped down the stairs still trying to pull his boots on. Gaius gave him a disapproving look even as he handed him a bowl of porridge. Merlin had learnt long ago to not argue.

When he saw Arthur also had a bowl in his hand, Merlin smiled. Arthur could claim he was here for the good of the kingdom. But the fact he had arrived before he had even eaten told Merlin a different story. He was here because he was worried.

"How are you feeling?" Gaius asked. He fixed Merlin with a pointed look that told the warlock not to attempt to lie. Still, Merlin glanced at Arthur. He didn't want the king knowing his magic was out of control. Arthur, however, noticed the look straight away.

"What? What is it? What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing."

"Merlin!"

"I might have lost control a little last night," Merlin said. He knew that look on Arthur's face and knew the king wouldn't rest until he found out what Gaius had meant. To his surprise though, Arthur only nodded, a serious look on his face.

"As a result of the magic Owaine used?"

"I-,"

"We're not sure yet, Sire," Gaius interrupted. He gave Merlin a meaningful look. "It could be. Or it could be because his emotions were unsettled."

Arthur continued to nod.

"I see," he said. Merlin squirmed under the look Arthur gave him and studied the table instead. When he looked back up, Arthur had put his bowl down and was striding for the door.

"Keep me informed of any developments."

"We both know it's not my emotions," Merlin started, turning to Gaius as the king left. There had been far greater emotional events over the last few years than this and his magic had never reacted before. Gaius held up a hand.

"Arthur doesn't need to know that. You've seen how he is when there is a magical threat. He doesn't know how to react and he grows angry. He needs to maintain his trust in you and saying you're out of control is a sure way to shake that up."

This time, it was Merlin's turn to nod. "But it really isn't my emotions. Look."

He held out his hand towards the mop and allowed the magic to flood him. He only just ducked in time as it hurtled towards him and smashed into the shelf. "It's like it's magnifying everything. I want it to move a little, it moves a lot."

"Well then," Gaius said. He moved towards his shelves and Merlin guessed what was coming next. Sure enough, Gaius hauled down a massive book, clouds of dust following it down. "We best find out what Owaine did before you make the castle fall down."

"You don't think I would do something like that, do you?" Merlin asked, alarm coursing through him. Gaius looked at him steadily over the top of his spectacles.

"When it comes to you and magic, Merlin, I learnt years ago not to let anything surprise me."

As Gaius gestured for Merlin to start searching through the books, the warlock had to admit he had a point. Every time Merlin thought something was beyond him, he was proven wrong. Only this time, the thought wasn't a comforting one and he began flicking through the pages earnestly. He had to find an answer before someone got hurt.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks again for all of the support with this story, I'm glad you have been enjoying it so far!_

* * *

Merlin stared in dismay at the scattering of books across the physician's chambers. Gaius had gone to do his rounds, fixing Merlin with a stern look when the warlock had offered to help. Merlin knew Gaius struggled with the stairs these days, but his mentor had quickly pointed out the stairs would be the least of his worries if Merlin used magic while they were out and other people witnessed his powers out of control.

The people might have accepted magic, but Merlin knew they were still cautious. They would be fools not to be. Camelot had suffered at the hands of magic: it hadn't always been in Uther's head. The people had paid the price because of Uther's war and casualties still lingered even after his death. Merlin knew they were coming around though and many asked him to show them something when they saw him. Merlin always complied. He would cause suspicion by refusing or scare people with wild powers if he went with Gaius now.

It wasn't the first time Merlin wished for the invisibility of being a servant again.

He paused, thinking hard as the thought flickered through his head. Then he shook it and forced his gaze back to the pile of books. He struggled with an invisibility spell that complicated on the best of days, let alone when his power was acting up. The books were proof of that: all he had tried to do was levitate one into his outstretched hand. It was the type of trick he had been able to do since before he could talk. Only this time, the whole pile had shot off the bench and onto the floor.

Merlin's hand flicked, preparing to sort them out again.

"No," he muttered. He clenched his fist, took a deep breath and pushed the magic back down. Scrambling off his stool, he dropped to his knees and began collecting the books in his arms. He had to stop using magic until he knew what was going on. Gaius might not have been serious about Merlin bringing down the castle, but the warlock was well aware how powerful his magic was. Someone could get hurt if he wasn't careful.

"Not actually cleaning, are you, _Mer_ lin? That's a first."

Kneeling on the floor, Merlin twisted and looked over his shoulder to see Arthur standing in the doorway. There was a bemused look on the king's face, but he moved into the room and perched on a stool.

"Don't you have magic to do that?" he asked, nodding towards the pile of books. Merlin glanced at the one in his hand and shook his head.

"This was my magic," he said. He hefted the pile back onto the table, despite knowing it wasn't in the order Gaius liked. Even after all these years, Merlin had never worked out Gaius' filing system.

"So you're still out of control," Arthur said. Merlin was sure he detected a flicker of uncertainty in Arthur's voice, but the king's face was controlled when Merlin glanced up at him. Not knowing what to say, Merlin nodded. He sat down on the bench and clenched his hands into fists on his legs.

"I've lost my magic before. I've used it when I've been unconscious." He ignored Arthur's surprised look, not particularly wanting to go that far back into their past and reveal who had helped Arthur out of the caves all those years ago. "But I've never felt out of control like this."

"Can't you practice? Start with something simple and build it up?"

"This isn't like using a sword, Arthur," Merlin said. He knew Arthur was trying to help, but there was no denying Arthur was out of his depth here. "Moving the books was simple for me. That was the result."

"Even when you use words?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you do things without saying anything… and you do things when you do say things. Is it as bad with words?"

Merlin hadn't even thought of that. He glanced around the chambers and saw a bucket of water.

" _Draca,"_ he breathed, allowing the magic to flood him. The water rose elegantly, twisting into the shape of a dragon as Merlin had requested. He made to breathe a sigh of relief when the dragon suddenly seemed to snarl and shot at him. Merlin yelped and ducked, but the water collided with his side and knocked him off the bench. It had been hard, solid even. The impact caused the water to splash back over the floor, still and perfectly innocent.

"That answers that then," Arthur murmured. He stood, crossing the space between them and offering Merlin his hand. Merlin took it, allowing himself to be hauled upwards and ignoring the way his cheeks were burning with embarrassment. Arthur clapped him on the back a little too hard.

"You alright?"

Merlin nodded, rubbing his side and sitting back down on the bench. He ran a hand over his face and realised he was shaking again.

"I hate this," he muttered. He had never been given the chance to voice his feelings about magic to Arthur truthfully before. "You were right about what you said; Camelot relies on me for protection and I can't cast even a simple spell."

"Don't flatter yourself, we managed before you came bumbling in," Arthur said. "Besides, it's not like anyone is planning on attacking us."

"What about Owaine?"

"What about him? You turned his sword into a flower, remember? Leon's keeping watching on him."

Merlin didn't want to feel relieved. His magic was acting up; the king could be in danger. But he couldn't deny Arthur was right. Camelot was strong and had no major enemies, not anymore. Knights and guards alike were better at tackling magical threats. And Merlin was determined to get to the bottom of this – he wasn't going to be out of action for long.

He cleared his throat and forced himself to sit up straighter. Arthur nodded approvingly.

"Did you come just to see my amazing lack of ability?"

"I've been seeing that since the day you arrived in Camelot and there is nothing amazing about it," Arthur said. Merlin rolled his eyes, but looked pointedly at his king. Arthur had left earlier, ordering them to report when there was any news. Instead of waiting, he had come back. Arthur shifted under Merlin's gaze and the warlock grinned.

"You're bored, aren't you?"

"Of course not, _Mer_ lin. You're supposed to be overseeing the treaty documents with Mercia."

Merlin had forgotten about that. He might not be Arthur's servant anymore, but all that meant was Arthur now openly asked Merlin to look over treaties rather than adding to his list of chores and hoping Merlin didn't notice that servants didn't usually get to prepare documents that could change the kingdom.

"It will be fine," Merlin muttered, distracted. "Just don't insult anyone."

"I also…" Arthur trailed off, looking the other way. "Wanted to, well, you know…"

"See how I was?"

Arthur nodded briskly. Merlin smiled.

"I'm fine. I think. I just wish I knew what he had done."

"Can't you ask anyone?"

Merlin shook his head. He didn't know if Kilgarrah was still alive or not. But he would not ask the dragon to make a journey for something like this. Merlin had control of the situation and knew the answer would be in Gaius' books somewhere.

"All I have to do is not use magic," he declared. He stood up, determined that he wasn't going to sit here all day brooding over the issue. Arthur followed suit.

"That should be easy, shouldn't it? You spent years not being able to use it."

"Something like that," Merlin mumbled, blushing. Arthur knew he had magic. That didn't mean he knew precisely how often Merlin had used it in his presence before the revelation. Arthur moved towards the door.

"You can come and look over this treaty then."

Realising he didn't have a reason to say no – and that being occupied on something boring might be exactly what he needed – Merlin followed Arthur out of the room. Gaius would know where he had gone; there was only one place Merlin vanished to without warning.

Arthur's rooms were neat and tidy, far cleaner than Merlin had ever been able to keep them. He wasn't sure if that was because Arthur's servant had only one job and no destiny to distract him, or whether Gwen had forced her husband to stop being such a slob. Merlin looked around.

"Where's Gwen?"

"Your _queen_ , Merlin," Arthur said pointedly, "is out riding with the Princess Mithian."

"You know they are probably gossiping about you?"

"Will you stop that blathering and just look at this treaty?"

Arthur thrust the scroll at him and Merlin grinned. The tips of Arthur's ears were red and Merlin took that as a sign he had won this round. He sat on the edge of Arthur's bed and began reading. But after a few moments, he let himself fall backwards, the soft covers cushioning his fall as he made himself comfortable. He heard Arthur tut, but ignored it. If the king wanted his help, then Merlin was going to make sure he had a good position in which to help from.

MMM

"There has to be something," Merlin sighed. He ran his fingers through already tousled hair, eyes red-rimmed from the lack of sleep. It had been three days since Owaine's spell had hit him and his magic was still out of control. He tried it first thing every morning, and had destroyed mops, pitchers and put a massive dent in an old shield of Arthur's that had been in his room for some reason.

Gaius looked steadily at him over his spectacles. The physician didn't look much better than Merlin and Merlin knew it was killing him not having found an answer and seeing how much his ward was suffering.

It had been easier for him when using magic would have got him executed if caught. At least using it in secret had been a form of escape. But apart from his practice first thing in the morning, Merlin had stopped using it altogether. It was safer that way. He could feel his power bubbling beneath the surface though, screaming for release. He hadn't got this long without using it for a long time, especially not since Arthur had discovered the truth.

"It's going to take longer if you continue to pester me," Gaius scolded. Merlin flushed and fell silent, but was unable to stop his foot from drumming a beat on the stone floor. Gaius put up with it for a moment before putting the book down and glaring at him.

"Go to the king, Merlin."

"Why?"

"Because he can deal with your childish behaviour better than I can!"

Sensing that Gaius was reaching the end of his patience, Merlin grabbed his jacket and slipped out, mumbling under his breath about Arthur being a child himself. He moved to the king's chambers and knocked lightly on the door. He had learnt to knock since Arthur had got married – it avoided awkward situations Merlin would rather not walk in on. The king and queen were both his friends, after all.

"Come," Arthur's voice said. Merlin pushed open the door and Gwen smiled up at him.

"Merlin," she said. "Arthur said you had trouble with your magic. Are you feeling better?"

"A little," Merlin lied, smiling at her. Gwen beamed and he felt his annoyance trickle away. She had always been able to make him feel better. But then he caught Arthur's look over her head and knew the king wasn't buying it. When Gwen wasn't looking, Merlin grimaced and shook his head. Arthur rolled his eyes, turning away in frustration. He didn't like not knowing the answer any more than Merlin did. Merlin knew Arthur felt responsible; it had been him Merlin was shielding at the time, after all.

Gwen, however, instantly picked up on the tension and rose to her feet. She kissed Arthur's cheek and touched Merlin lightly on the arm.

"I have things I must attend to," she said. With a swish of her dress, she was gone. Merlin instantly sank into a vacant seat and put his head in his hands.

"Gaius still not found anything?" Arthur asked, moving closer and perching on the edge of the table. He was dressed informally, his white shirt hanging free and his feet bare. When he looked like this, Arthur forgot the duties of being a king. It was the only time Merlin knew Arthur put being a friend first and he thanked Gaius for sending him here.

He shook his head. "I don't think I'm helping," he mumbled. When he looked up, it was to find Arthur grinning.

"Oh no. I know that look. You're thinking of something that I'm not going to like, aren't you?"

"We're going hunting," Arthur declared.

"No, we're not." Being High Warlock meant Merlin didn't even pretend to go along with Arthur's plans anymore.

"Yes, we are."

"Arthur…"

"Merlin, you're moping. And driving everyone mad. The more you try and resist using magic, the more tempted you are. You need to get out of the castle. Feel the wind in your hair and the thrill of a hunt. You'll forget all about it once we're out there."

"And what about when we get attacked by bandits, or sorcerers, or giant beasts with snakes for heads?"

"You're so dramatic." Arthur was pulling on his boots even as he spoke before reaching for his jacket. Merlin slumped further into his chair. He knew the gleam in Arthur's eye and knew there was no way he was getting out of this. The fact he couldn't use magic would mean Arthur had no qualms about physically dragging him out there, the way he had always done.

"Besides, we've been there, done that. There will be new dangers if there is anything."

"Great," Merlin muttered. "Just great."

There was nothing he could do as Arthur grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. The king didn't let go though, marching Merlin down to the stables and then blocking the door.

"Go on then."

Knowing he had lost, Merlin sighed and began saddling the horses. He purposefully went slowly, hoping Arthur would change his mind. But the king had clearly been thinking about this hunt long before Merlin had arrived in the room and he stepped forward to help instead, even thanking the servant who brought the hunting equipment down.

"Who are you and what have you done with the King of Camelot?"

"Just get on the damn horse, Merlin."

Arthur trotted out of the courtyard and Merlin gave a long suffering sigh before heading out after him. He might not be able to use magic reliably, but he couldn't let Arthur go out into the forest on his own with a clear conscience. Especially as he knew none of the knights knew where they were going.

Merlin didn't want to admit it. He certainly wouldn't to Arthur and was reluctant to admit it even to himself. But after an hour's hard riding, he was beginning to feel better. His heart was pounding, his blood singing and he forgot all about the frustration of not being able to use magic when it took most of his concentration just keeping up with Arthur. His head had cleared and being this close to nature made his magic almost feel normal.

They stopped when the sun was high in the sky, Merlin quickly preparing the rabbit Arthur had caught earlier. The king wasn't so much out for a hunt as for a ride, but they hadn't brought provisions. This was the only way they could eat. But Merlin had had plenty of practice and it wasn't long before they were sharing the meal.

"Feeling better?" Arthur teased. Merlin made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat, not wanting to give Arthur the satisfaction. But before Arthur could say anything, a sound caught Merlin's attention. He listened hard, knowing he hadn't imagined it by the way Arthur tensed as well. Someone was crashing through the forest. More than one person, if the heavy tread was anything to go by.

"Bandits?" Merlin whispered. Arthur shook his head. He kicked out the fire and rose to his feet, drawing his sword in one fluid movement. Merlin also climbed to his feet, shaking out his hands. Arthur shot him a look.

"I'll deal with this," he said. Before Merlin could argue, Arthur had run to the edge of their clearing and was peering into the forest.

"Saxons," he reported. "At least six of them."

"Arthur, you can't fight those odds," Merlin hissed. He knew Arthur was good, but the Saxons had a reputation for being vicious and ruthless fighters. Arthur was too honourable in a fight.

"Of course I can," Arthur said. He looked unconcerned and Merlin didn't have the chance to stop him before Arthur had called out, drawing the men's attention. Cursing, Merlin backed up to make sure he wasn't a target. Arthur might have said that he couldn't use magic. But that didn't mean Merlin had any intention of standing back and letting Arthur battle them alone. It was still his destiny to keep Arthur safe.

The men charged all at once and any hope Merlin had they would just want to talk was dashed as they gave loud battle cries and drew their weapons. Arthur moved with ease, Excalibur glinting in the sunlight. It was a breath-taking view, for his sword was just an extension of his arm. But Merlin could see two of the men edging around Arthur, preparing to flank him and strike him from behind.

"Arthur!" Merlin yelled in warning. But even as he called out, he knew it was no good. Arthur couldn't handle these odds; the men were too skilled. There was nothing else for it.

Merlin stepped forward, his hand outstretched and his eyes ablaze with power as he prepared to unleash his magic.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you again for all the support with this story! I hope you like this next part!_

* * *

"Merlin, no!"

Arthur's shout was muffled.

The whole world was muffled.

Merlin knew there was a tremendous gale tearing around them, shaking the trees and sending leaves in a vicious swirl. But it wasn't touching him; his magic was protecting him from his own wrath.

"Merlin!"

This time, Merlin blinked. He looked towards the king and realised that Arthur had his back pressed to a tree, his arm over his face to stop himself from being blinded by the magic racing around him. Merlin gasped, struggling to pull the power back under control. It was one thing defending Arthur, it was another thing entirely hurting the man in the process. But now the magic had been released, it wasn't coming back under control.

With a yell, Merlin fell to his knees, gripping his fingers into the dirt as he tried to ground himself. The feeling of the earth, the power of nature running through the forest, did nothing to help. If anything, Merlin felt the magic grow stronger.

Hearing the clang of weapons forced him to look up. The wind had dropped at his distraction, although the magic was still pounding from him in waves. What it was actually doing, Merlin had no idea. All he could focus on was that it wasn't hurting Arthur. Instead, the Saxons had taken the chance to move in again and even as Merlin knelt there, Arthur was holding off two men at once. He was making it look effortless though, and even spared a glance towards his servant as Merlin tried to stand.

"Stay there," Arthur called. There was a commanding note to his voice and Merlin knew it meant he had the situation in hand. But Arthur's words had drawn attention to the warlock and one of the other men turned towards him with a snarl. The markings on the man's clothes indicated he had some power of his own and he clearly thought he would prove to be a match for Merlin. He started walking forwards and Merlin's hand was out in front of him before he could stop himself.

The man paused, then tried to continue. But it was as if his feet were stuck in the ground and he couldn't take a step. He tried to shout a spell and Merlin jerked his chin, silencing the man before the words could escape his throat. Not prepared to give in without a fight, the man drew a dagger and Merlin smirked. He couldn't kill an unarmed man – no matter how out of control he got, his magic was still inherently good. But now…Now the man was a threat to both Merlin and his destiny and the magic reacted accordingly.

The leaves around the man's feet suddenly sparked before a rush of flames raced up his body. The man screamed, a long-drawn out sound that Merlin had heard before. The other Saxons tried to rush him before they met the same fate. The magic burned fast and hot and it only took minutes before their enemies were a scattering of ash. The breeze – natural this time – soon spread it thinly across the ground.

Finally, the magic calmed.

Merlin was on his knees, gasping for breath before the first ragged sob tore from his throat. What had he done? He had killed using magic before, but never in such a cruel manner. All those men and women Uther had burnt at the stake and now Merlin had just done the same thing. He was no better. The men didn't stand a chance – it wasn't defence, it was murder.

"Merlin, look at me."

Arthur's voice was calm and his hands on Merlin's arms were grounding. Merlin locked his hands around Arthur's wrists, needing something to hold him together. It took a few attempts before he could look at Arthur's face. He couldn't stand Arthur looking at him in contempt and had no idea how the magic would react if that was the case.

But it wasn't. Arthur's expression was sympathetic and understanding. He even smiled when Merlin finally locked eyes with him.

"Let it go," Arthur commanded. Merlin realised his eyes must still be tinged with gold and he took a deep breath. Now they were safe, the magic was prepared to settle. As Merlin exhaled again, the worried crease between Arthur's eyes disappeared and Merlin knew the magic had finally calmed down. With the magic gone though, Merlin felt hollow and empty. He stared at the small piles of ash.

"What did I do?" He whispered, his voice hoarse. His grip on Arthur's wrists tightened. "What did I do?!"

"It's alright," Arthur said. "You were trying to protect me. The way you always are."

Merlin was missing something though. Arthur's words were careful: too careful. He was hiding something and Merlin lurched back, gaze roaming the king anxiously as he looked for a missed wound. Arthur appeared unscathed until Merlin glanced at the bottom of his cloak. Along the very hem were a few singes.

"It turned on you, didn't it?"

"Of course not. I just got too close to a flaming Saxon. Should know by now fire is hot, shouldn't I?"

"Arthur."

Arthur sagged. He refused to meet Merlin's eyes as he nodded. Tears stinging his eyes, Merlin couldn't stop himself from leaning over and retching. Not only was he a murderer, he had hurt Arthur. He could have killed him and he wouldn't have ever known.

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't." Arthur grabbed his arms again, giving Merlin a small shake. "You were protecting me. I'm not hurt, I'm not even close to being so. You can't blame yourself."

"But it is my fault!" Merlin cried. "I should have listened to you; I should have stopped myself from using magic. I knew I would lose control and I didn't care… I wanted them dead and I didn't care how."

"Merlin…"

"No." Merlin jumped to his feet, backing off a few paces. "I'm dangerous. You shouldn't be near me."

"For heaven's sake, Merlin." Arthur planted his sword in the ground and stood as well. Arthur thought he was safe, he wouldn't have disarmed himself otherwise, but Merlin knew he had never been in more danger. The warlock wasn't protecting his back now – Merlin was far more of a danger to the king than the Saxons had been. The worst part was Merlin knew Arthur wouldn't try and defend himself against Merlin – he wouldn't risk hurting him.

"You have to stay away from me." Merlin forced his voice to sound calm, to make Arthur believe he was being rational about this. Arthur shook his head.

"You're being absurd; you're not going to hurt me."

Merlin knew what he had to do. He had to make Arthur see him for the dangerous warlock that their enemies saw rather than the bumbling servant he had always been. He looked his master in the eye.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. Arthur's brow crumbled in confusion but Merlin reacted before Arthur realised what he was about to do. The magic filled him up again and this time, Merlin fought with everything he had to stop it from getting out of control. A gentle trickle of power escaped him. At the very last moment, it exploded into a greater force, but it was too late by then.

The magic caught Arthur in the chest, blasting him backwards. Merlin winced when the king hit the floor hard, then cursed when Arthur didn't move. He yanked the magic under control and quickly dropped to his knees by Arthur's side. But his chest was rising and falling evenly and Merlin had spent enough time with Gaius to know a steady pulse when he felt one. Arthur was fine; just unconscious.

Merlin backed away before looking towards Camelot. Shutting his eyes, he reached out with his mind until he could pass on a message. It was helpful having magical guards and servants now – Merlin could touch their thoughts and get them to deliver messages from wherever he was. He didn't use that ability – it felt too much like an invasion of privacy and he knew from having the dragon summon him night and day how annoying it was.

Right now, he didn't have a choice. Within seconds, he knew the alarm had been sounded. He didn't alert them to what had happened, only that the king was in danger and the knights on the way.

Now all he needed to do was wait until he heard the horses before taking off into the forest. Arthur would be fine, albeit furious. Leon would be too worried about getting Arthur checked by Gaius to let him come after Merlin though.

"I am sorry," he told the prone figure. "It's for your own good. You should have listened to me."

Merlin didn't have a plan. He didn't know what was happening to him or what he was going to do about it. But he did know he couldn't stay near Arthur while he was out of control.

MMM

The leaves crunched underfoot and Merlin shivered, drawing his jacket closer around his trembling form. The thought of a fire flickered through his mind and he hurried back to the cave he had been staying in for the last week. Crouching by the entrance, he rearranged a few twigs and stretched out his hand.

Then he stopped, taking a deep breath and making sure he let go of the magic properly. It had become a habit to use magic for every small task since he no longer had to hide. But right now, that wasn't an option. Feeling annoyed, Merlin picked up the two stones he had been using for flints and struggled to get the sparks to catch.

It took an age. Far longer than it had ever done while he was a servant and Merlin knew he was out of practice. When this was over, he was going to make sure he didn't rely on his magic so absolutely.

 _When._

Merlin snorted and shook his head, huddling closer to the flames. _If_ was more likely. Although it had been a week since he had fled from Arthur, he was no closer to controlling his magic than he had been then. Out here, without the books and resources that Gaius had, Merlin didn't know what he was looking for when it came to finding a cure. He would have sought out the Druids, but the idea that he could accidentally hurt them stopped him. They were peaceful, even more so since Merlin had helped Arthur broker a treaty and a truce. Merlin would not bring destruction upon them after working so hard to save them.

He had to do this on his own. Until then, he had to stay isolated in order to ensure no one else got hurt because of him. Merlin had never been scared of his magic, not even when his mother had filled his head with what would happen to him if someone were to find out. But right now, he was terrified.

Once warmth had seeped back into his bones, he pulled over the flat rock he had been using as a plate. He had little food left and knew he would have to hunt again the next day. He had to use magic for that – he had no tools and it was that or starve. But it had worked the first time and Merlin hoped his magic connected the action with survival and didn't incinerate potential food to ashes before he had the chance to eat any.

Picking at the remains he did have, Merlin shifted until the fire was at his back. This way, he could stare out across the forest without the flames filling his vision. The cliff wasn't high and the climb wasn't steep, but it allowed Merlin a view across parts of Camelot. Even from this distance, he could see the lights twinkling as candles were lit. A pang of homesickness rushed through him. He had been away from Camelot before. But he had never felt like an outsider, had never felt this sense of isolation.

Merlin ate, pulled his jacket around him and curled up closer to the flames as he let sleep take him.

He didn't know what woke him. The fire was out and he was cold, but the sound of angry yet hushed voices reached his ears. Merlin jerked back from the cave entrance, then realised he could neither see nor hear what was happening if he backed away. Making sure the fire was out and no stray sparks could give away his presence, Merlin dropped low and crawled on his stomach to the entrance again.

"…supposed to wait."

"But he had ridden out!" An angry voice declared before someone hushed him.

The voices dipped too quiet for Merlin to hear and he silently cursed. He couldn't risk a spell. Instead, he drew himself up into a crouch and as silently as he could manage (he thought Arthur would be proud of his efforts), skirted down the rough path and returned to forest level. The voices were passing on and Merlin fell over an exposed root before he managed to catch up enough to hear them again.

"They deserve what happened to them," another voice was saying. "The king rode out with his warlock, we all know the dangers of going against magic like that. They should have waited and stuck to the plan."

"But now he won't go anywhere without his knights. They're hunting for something."

"Rumour has it the warlock hasn't been seen."

Merlin had worked out there were three speakers. But his heart was pounding and his blood running cold. They were talking about Arthur. Technically, him and Arthur. From what Merlin could make out though, these Saxons were the same part of the group that had attacked them the week before. They had plans for Arthur, and Merlin was certain it would mean nothing good for either the king or Camelot.

He stepped forward, twigs cracking underfoot. He didn't hear though; his pulse was pounding in his ears and his fingers flexed. He could end this, right now. He stepped forward again.

And stopped.

He wasn't a murderer.

If he let the magic loose again, he knew full well the men wouldn't stand a chance. No one did against him. He wouldn't be able to stop himself, just as he hadn't been able to before. He had left Arthur's side because he hadn't wanted to hurt anyone in that manner again. If he attacked now, the last week would have been for nothing. Everything he had worked towards would be for nothing.

But he couldn't stand by and let their enemies plot against Arthur. As a servant, he had never been able to get his suspicions heard. Arthur had promised Merlin would never stand helpless on the side-lines again if something was occurring in the kingdom. But now, when Arthur needed him the most, Merlin knew there was nothing he could do. Without his magic, he was nothing but a scrawny servant. The thought made his stomach churn in repulsion. Was that all he was now?

With self-loathing building, Merlin almost missed the last part of the men's exchange.

"We wait for them to ride out. They'll come to our part of the forest before long. We'll be ready. We'll take the king hostage and kill the knights before they know what hit them. Without the warlock, they have no way of defending against our sort of magic."

Merlin stayed where he was, breathing slowly and deliberately. He couldn't lose his temper. He closed his eyes as he listened to the men walking off. Then he exhaled sharply and combed his fingers through his hair. The self-doubt disappeared. He had been saving Arthur since he had first arrived in Camelot and not every one of those occasions had relied on magic. Right now, he was struggling to think of a time where his wits had been enough, but Merlin didn't let himself get caught up on that.

The fact was: he could do this. He had to do this. Without magic.

As a new-found determination flooded him, Merlin smiled as dawn broke over the horizon. Only a few rays reached him in the forest, but it was enough to let him know he had made the right decision. Giving up had never been his style and he wasn't about to start now.

For the first time since he had left Arthur's side, Merlin knew where he had to go. He checked that he had everything (he hadn't brought anything with him) and turned east, setting off. As he walked into the sunrise, Merlin tried to reassure himself that Leon and Percival would never let Arthur ride out without them. Nor would they be as easily defeated as the Saxons seemed to believe. Merlin knew Arthur though; the king would not sit by while Merlin was out here in trouble and alone. He would come without them if they didn't agree with his hunts.

Trying not to worry, Merlin instead thought of his new position as Court Warlock. He knew it gave him power and authority over others, but he had never used it. He wondered if it would be enough to persuade a messenger to ride for Camelot to warn the king as soon as he got to his destination.

His concerns and thoughts sped up his journey. It didn't take Merlin long before his feet were leading him on a familiar path. He had run deeper into the forest than he realised if he had arrived already. But before long, he was knocking tentatively on a door, feeling like a young boy rather than the most powerful warlock to walk the earth. As the door opened, Merlin felt all of his troubles fall away and he smiled.

"Merlin?"

"I need your help, Mother."


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks again for the great support, it means a lot. I hope you like this chapter!_

* * *

"You have to go back, Merlin."

"I can't." Merlin rested his head on his folded arms, slumping over the table. He didn't feel like the Court Warlock of all of Camelot right now. He felt like a young boy who didn't want to do his chores despite his mother telling him he had to.

"Arthur is in danger without you there. He needs you."

"Arthur's in danger with me there," Merlin protested. He looked up at her from under his eyelashes, knowing that used to work to get him out of trouble. For a second, he thought he still had the knack to win over his mother with one look. But then she blinked and swatted him over the head as she passed.

"That won't work, young man. You didn't come here to disagree with everything I said. You came here because you know I'm right."

"But…"

"Merlin."

"Fine," Merlin said. He straightened up, shifted the position of the stool and lent back against the wall. "But what am I supposed to do about the Saxons? They're not going to just leave if I return to Camelot."

"They might. You said it yourself, they don't want to go against you. Maybe seeing you will be enough."

"And when they realise I'm not using magic?"

Like every time they had reached this point in the conversation, his mother fell quiet. Merlin knew it must be as strange to her as it was to him. After all, she had witnessed him using magic since before he could walk and talk. He didn't remember that far back. She had never seen him without magic.

That was the problem. Merlin wasn't without magic. He could feel it bubbling through every nerve and every vein. Every fibre of his being felt alive with power, ready to burst forth if he let it. Magic had always been effortless for him, but now it was a struggle to stop it from exploding out of him. Merlin might not know what the spell had done to him, but he knew it wasn't wearing off. If anything, it was getting stronger.

"Merlin." He looked up to find his mother standing in front of him. When he met her eyes, she put a hand on his shoulder. "You can't stay here. You know the answers you seek will not be found in a small village. You'll only attract attention."

Merlin knew what she meant. The longer he stayed, the more he put the village at risk. Camelot still had enemies and if they knew the king and warlock were not near each other, they were both vulnerable. Merlin sighed, running a hand over his eyes.

"I'll leave in the morning. I'll go back."

"Good boy."

"At least if they aren't riding out looking for me, it's not my fault if the prat gets himself caught." Even as he spoke, Merlin knew he was making the right decision. He had known since before he had knocked on the door what he needed to do. But sometimes, having someone else force him to say it helped – it had felt like a long week on his own.

"You've always done the right thing, Merlin," his mother said. She reached forward and cupped his cheek. "Don't change now, not after everything. With or without your magic, you're still a good man."

Merlin couldn't meet her eyes as he nodded. He had told her what happened with the men – she had guessed something awful for him to be driven from Arthur's side. But he never wanted to repeat that experience, never wanted to admit to something like that again. It wasn't who he was.

He stood and moved through the small cottage. He had only been here a night and a day and already had managed to spread belongings across the entire place. It was a miracle he had ever been able to keep Arthur's rooms clean when he had been the man's servant. As he picked up a few things, he smiled wistfully. Sometimes, he missed those simpler times, wished when the invisibility of being a servant cloaked him better than his lies and excuses could.

He wouldn't change anything though. For if anything was different, the chances are that Arthur would be dead. If that was true, Merlin knew it would be no spell that was making his magic react in such a way. His emotions had always caused his power to react.

Merlin tried to stop such troubling thoughts from clouding his mind. He felt better now he had a plan of action, although what he was going to say to Arthur about knocking him out and running away, he had no idea. Merlin could only keep his fingers crossed that Gwen would be present for that confrontation, for only she had the power over Arthur to calm him. The thought finally made him genuinely smile and Merlin forced himself to stop brooding. He had no idea when he was next going to see his mother and vowed to make the most of it that evening.

He stood by that promise, smiling and laughing the whole night. If she noticed it didn't reach his eyes (and Merlin knew she noticed, she always knew), then Hunith said nothing about it, for which he was grateful. After their evening meal, Merlin washed the pots – by hand – and used the moonlight to mend a fence post she had mentioned was lose. It felt good to be doing something with his hands rather than sitting around worrying.

Sleep took an age to come that night, although Merlin knew it was as much because he was lying on the floor again. After all these years in a bed, he couldn't fathom how he had managed to survive beforehand. He had sent his mother enough money when Arthur deemed fit to pay him for his new role, but she had no reason to buy two beds rather than one. When he did sleep, fitful dreams plagued and his mind and he woke early. Merlin watched dawn come, feeling ill.

After a cold breakfast, he wrapped his jacket around him and moved towards the door. He didn't have a pack, any belongings, anything. He hadn't exactly planned that he was going to run in the first place.

"You'll write, won't you?" His mother's hands rested on his shoulders for a moment as they both stood and looked at the empty path stretching before Merlin. "Let me know you make it through this safely. I can't help but worry about you…"

"Mother…"

"You were safer when you were keeping it a secret. At least you weren't a target."

"Apart from anyone trying to get to Arthur."

Merlin felt her hands clench and knew he had said the wrong thing. He turned to face her, echoing her actions and putting his own hands on her shoulders, trying to reassure her.

"I've been through worse. Since the day I arrived in Camelot, I've been playing this game. I'll be fine, Mother."

She looked into his eyes for a long moment before giving his cheek a soft slap.

"You better be," she warned. Merlin grinned, pecking her on the cheek before turning to face the path again. He took a deep breath and stepped forward. It was easier after that first step, for despite his misgivings, Camelot was calling him home. He didn't look back as Ealdor once again disappeared from view and Merlin was accompanied by nostalgic thoughts about how much had changed since he had first made this journey. He was as nervous then as he was now.

But thinking back to his early days in Camelot calmed his mind and he walked steadily as the morning drew on. He knew he was making good time and stopped by a small stream for a lunch that he had gathered along the way. Despite the oncoming winter, the stream was a sun trap and Merlin lay back once he had eaten, enjoying the rare chance of just being able to relax.

When the sun was suddenly blocked, he opened his eyes. For a second, Merlin felt his magic instinctively try and rise to the surface. He shoved it back fiercely, climbed to his feet and grinned when Aithusa landed in front of him. She kept her distance, watching him warily. Merlin knew that she had healed from her experiences with Morgana and knew that despite her flaws, Morgana had genuinely cared for the dragon. Aithusa had never recovered the use of her voice though.

"What are you doing here?" Merlin asked, stretching out his hand. Aithusa didn't hesitate, but pressed her snout against his palm. Whatever she had been through, it hadn't taken her long for her to trust the dragonlord.

"Arthur's been worrying about you again," he told her. He settled back on the ground and Aithusa padded over, tucking in her wings and resting her head on his legs. She had grown a lot lately and Merlin sucked in a sharp breath at the weight of her leaning against him. He scratched her head soothingly though.

"He seems to forget you're a dragon and can look after yourself." While she might not have been able to speak, the snort of smoke that escaped Aithusa's snout revealed she understood everything. It had surprised Merlin quite how quickly Arthur had taken to the young dragon once he had overcome his shock. Anything vulnerable sparked a fierce sense of protectiveness in the king and Aithusa was no exception. If anything, Merlin thought Arthur was worse than he was.

Forgetting about his quest to return to Camelot as fast as possible, Merlin passed some time with the young creature. His duties had kept him busy and he knew he should have paid her more attention. After all, being a dragonlord was more important than being a court warlock. He spoke quietly, telling her everything that had been happening lately and his own problems with his magic. Aithusa shifted, brushing her snout lightly along his chest before looking up at him with intelligent eyes. Merlin nodded.

"Yes. Camelot is where my heart belongs and it's where I must return to. I'm just… I'm scared," he admitted. Aithusa nudged him again before taking off for the skies. Merlin laughed out loud as she started swooping through the air, clearly showing off just for his benefit. She might not have been able to speak, but Merlin had developed his own way of understanding his charge and when Aithusa landed again, he stroked her gratefully.

"Thank you, my friend," he said gently. He knew it was time to move on and climbed to his feet. As he did so, his magic suddenly tingled warningly again. He would have ignored it – it seemed to be acting against anything right now – apart from Aithusa suddenly tensed and snarled, her whole body rigid. Merlin froze, staring into the trees surrounding them. He didn't have to wait long before he heard the audible snap of a branch giving way under a heavy boot.

"Go," he whispered to Aithusa. If it was the knights, he would call her back afterwards. If it wasn't… he had failed her once before. He was not going to let it happen again. Aithusa looked up at him before shaking her head. Merlin rolled his eyes, hoping his dragonlord powers didn't trigger his magic.

" _Ithi!"_

His magic flared and Merlin grunted with the effort of keeping it in him. It burned and bubbled through his veins and he fell to his knees with the effort of withholding the power from exploding out of him. It was worth it though, for Aithusa had no choice but to take to the air just as two men burst into the clearing. One looked skyward, but the dragon was already out of their reach.

Sweat beading his brow, Merlin looked up. He groaned. They were Saxons, no doubt the same ones still on the prowl for Arthur.

"What have we here?" One asked, drawing his sword in one smooth movement. Deciding this was really not his day, Merlin forced himself to stand. While he didn't let his magic out, he allowed it to flood his eyes, hoping the tell-tale gold would be enough to make them turn tail and run.

It didn't work.

"I know you", one said. There was a dangerous snarl to his words and Merlin warned himself to be careful.

"Think I would remember an ugly face like yours." It seemed his mouth hadn't received the warning to be cautious. Merlin forced himself to hold the man's gaze, unflinching, as rage crossed his expression. His friend put a warning hand on his arm. The man shrugged him off but looked closer at Merlin. Merlin let the magic fade, knowing he was risking it leaking out. He might be in danger, but he refused to be a cold-blooded killer. He refused to lose control.

"You're the Court Warlock of Camelot."

"Do I look like a Court Warlock?" Merlin scoffed, gesturing down at himself. His clothes were still old and mud splattered from where Aithusa had played in the stream.

"He's got a point," the second man said. "He doesn't look high and mighty."

"Rumours are the warlock isn't. He's just a common servant who happens to have powerful magic."

Merlin knew he was in trouble. Slowly, he started edging back, hoping the men would be too busy trying to work it out to notice if he suddenly took off for the trees.

But he had only taken a few steps when the hairs on the back of his neck tingled. Merlin glanced over his shoulder and visibly swallowed at the giant of a man standing there. He had to be taller than Percival and at least twice as wide. His hand was resting on his axe and he glared down at Merlin. In one movement, the man reached forward, grabbed his shoulder and bodily threw Merlin back into the clearing.

Merlin tried to catch his balance, but he couldn't. There was nothing he could do but hit the ground hard. He had suffered similar falls when Arthur shoved him too hard, but there was nothing friendly or teasing about this gesture. There was nothing but danger and his magic knew it. Merlin stared at the pebbles by his hand, realising they were trembling. He could feel the magic flooding from him and the humiliation and anger meant his restraint snapped. He jumped to his feet and with one jerk of his chin, the giant of a man was thrown back into the trees. He landed heavily, but his bulk saved him from any real injuries.

"It is him," a voice breathed. Merlin looked around to find both men had their swords drawn. Merlin held up his hand and realised he had no idea if he was trying to be threatening or reassuring.

"Leave me alone," he said. His voice was quiet, but Merlin was pleased to hear that it didn't sound pleading in any way. "Walk away from this, leave Camelot, never return and things need go no further."

"Or what? You don't have a sword and there are three of us."

"You said it yourself: I'm the Court Warlock of Camelot. Do you think I need a piece of steel in my hand to defend myself?"

Merlin couldn't stop himself. He didn't want to. For too many years had he been treated as nothing, and he refused to be put in that situation again. He knew it was his magic affecting his pride, but there was nothing he could do as his hand slowly lifted and a wind began to whip around his feet. It rose until a hurricane was ripping around him. The men were clearly trying to stay on their feet but losing their grip.

A roaring sound filled Merlin's ears and he felt himself standing taller as the wind continued to blow. When one of the men were suddenly blasted from their feet and slammed into a tree, it felt like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over him.

"No!" Merlin cried. Fighting hard, he forced the magic to listen to him, to come back under control. He was on his knees before the wind dropped, struggling to pull it back. He looked up and knew the man was dead – his neck was broken.

"I…"

"Murderer!" The second man spat. He moved forward, sword still drawn. Merlin tried to scramble backwards, knowing that using magic would mean the death of the remaining men. If Arthur were here, Merlin wouldn't hesitate to protect his king. When it came to protecting himself, however, he seemed to overthink things.

"I didn't mean…" Merlin began again. But it was no good. The men had heard him warning them and seen the result. They weren't prepared to listen to apologies now.

Merlin knew there was nowhere to go. The big man was back on his feet, coming towards them with fury etched into his features.

"If you harm me, you'll have the whole of Camelot to answer to." It was his last attempt, one final thing he could say to make the men back off. One sneered.

"Good. I've been looking forward to a chat with the king."

Merlin tried to do something. He couldn't let himself be used against Arthur in such a way. But he moved too slowly and without magic, he was defenceless. The hilt of the sword came down before he was able to squirm away and Merlin instantly slumped, lights flashing behind his eyes as he felt his consciousness slipping away. He tried to reach for the magic again, to protect himself somehow, but for the first time since he had been hit with the spell, it was out of his reach. He was helpless.

But just as darkness claimed him, Merlin thought he saw something. He couldn't be sure and wasn't certain whether it was his imagination praying for something to save him. But as he passed out, Merlin was convinced he saw Aithusa circle high above them before flying in the direction of Camelot.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you again for the support! I hope you like this next chapter._

* * *

"Arthur?"

Arthur jumped, looking over his shoulder. His queen was watching him, a soft smile on her face. Arthur felt a flush building, knowing by her expression this was not the first time Guinevere had tried to draw his attention. He gave her a guilty grin and turned to look back out of the window. His arms were folded across his chest and one foot was hooked behind the other. But despite his relaxed posture, Arthur was anything but.

Merlin had left Camelot before. Several times, in fact. Sometimes it was for Gaius, sometimes it was for Arthur. Sometimes it was because he had something mystical and magical to do and Arthur didn't ask, knowing he wouldn't understand the explanation. It did make him wonder how many of Gaius' errands in the past had actually fallen into this latter category and Merlin had never told him. He had even left Camelot by force – Arthur could still remember the feeling of helplessness when the rock fall had separated them and Morgana had taken his servant.

But this was different. Merlin had been driven from the castle because he himself was the threat. At least, Merlin thought so. Despite what Arthur had witnessed, he still didn't believe Merlin was a danger. To himself, maybe. But not to Arthur. Never to Arthur.

"He'll be alright," Gwen said softly. She moved closer, putting a hand on his arm. Arthur glanced at her but he couldn't meet her eyes.

"This is Merlin we're talking about. He can't even walk down a corridor without walking into something."

"He has powerful magic, Arthur. He can look after himself. He survived all of these years, after all."

Arthur knew what she was getting at. Gwen herself had come closer to being executed for magic than Merlin had. He had somehow survived, despite being a complete and utter idiot. But Arthur knew Merlin's magic had kept him safe all of this time.

"That's just it," he murmured. He rested his hand over hers, knowing he hadn't been good company since Merlin had gone missing. "He doesn't have his magic."

"I thought you said-,"

"That it was stronger, yes. It's out of control, and you know what Merlin is like. He would rather die than let out of control magic hurt someone again. He won't be using it."

Arthur felt a smile flicker over his face. He had worried when Merlin had revealed his power that he didn't know the man at all. Now he knew what Merlin had said was true: he was still the same person, just with some added power that Arthur hadn't known about. Arthur knew Merlin's reactions because he knew the man…and he knew how _good_ Merlin could be when he wanted to be. If Merlin thought he would hurt someone accidentally, he wouldn't put himself in a position where it could happen.

"He'll be alright," Gwen insisted. Arthur looked at her properly this time.

"You know where he is, don't you?"

Gwen smiled. "Not for sure. But I have a good idea where he would have gone."

"Tell me!" Arthur turned, resting his hands on her shoulders and staring into her eyes. Gwen reached up and cupped his face.

"If you think about it, you'll know as well."

Arthur thought long and hard for a moment. He had ridden out with several patrols trying to find the missing warlock and had demanded reports from the others. None of them had seen even a hint of where Merlin was and they had all put it down to his magic. But with a groan, Arthur realised why. They hadn't been able to find him because Merlin wouldn't have stayed in Camelot's borders. He would have moved on.

"He went back to Ealdor, didn't he?"

"I suspect so."

Arthur broke away from Gwen and strode towards the door, snatching up his sword as he did so.

"Where are you going?"

"To bring the idiot home," Arthur said shortly, buckling on the weapon as he spoke. He had just reached the door, his outstretched fingers brushing against the handle when he heard Gwen gasp. He turned, but his wife was looking out of the window. While Arthur's gaze had been fixed on the courtyard in the hope that Merlin would suddenly appear, Gwen was looking towards the skies.

Frowning, Arthur hurried back to her side and followed her gaze. For a moment, he couldn't see anything. Then he realised there was a shadow cutting through the white clouds, one that was moving against the wind. As Arthur watched, Aithusa spiralled out of the clouds and circled the castle before gaining more height. As she repeated the process, Arthur knew she was trying to draw attention. But Merlin had pressed on her the danger of people so as to avoid a repeat of the past and Arthur knew she wouldn't come any closer unless she saw someone she knew.

But Aithusa rarely came to Camelot unless Merlin called her or she needed the dragonlord. Fear clawed Arthur's stomach and he swallowed.

"I have to go," he muttered. Gwen distractedly nodded, her eyes fixed on the young dragon. She seemed to coming to the same conclusion as the king: something was wrong.

Arthur left his rooms and quickly made his way down to the stables. Leon fell into step with him and Arthur knew in one glance that the knight had seen the dragon as well. Neither of them said anything as they hurried out of the castle and towards the stables. Arthur kept one eye on the sky and knew when Aithusa had seen them as she suddenly banked and flew towards the forest. Although her ability to speak had never recovered, Arthur knew she understood everything that was said. Merlin had pressed on her where was safe to land.

Arthur saddled his own horse, not having time to wait for the stable boy. Mounting up, he touched his heels to the horse's flanks and left Camelot at a canter, Leon right behind him.

He slowed once he reached the forest, making sure he was following the right path. The whole point of the clearing was that it was out of the way and people wouldn't stumble across it by accident, giving Aithusa a safe place to land. But Arthur had to concentrate as he guided his horse through the undergrowth and the focus helped to stop him wondering what could have happened. In a way, he welcomed the distraction.

But all too soon, his horse snorted in distress and Arthur slipped from the saddle. Leon dismounted but stayed where he was as Arthur passed over the reins. The last thing he wanted was to scare the young dragon and Arthur moved forward alone.

Aithusa was waiting for him around a big oak, concealed from view until Arthur was almost on top of her. He stopped and crouched, holding out a hand to the young dragon. He knew she recognised him, but that didn't mean she trusted him. She had been with Morgana, after all. Who knew what hatred his sister had been spouting about him this whole time? Arthur had never been with the dragon without Merlin before and a flicker of nerves shot through him. He was fully aware he was defenceless against her if she decided to turn against him.

Aithusa nudged his hand though and Arthur scratched her head. She moved forward and he knew that she was safe.

"What is it?" He murmured softly. "Is this about Merlin? Do you know where he is?"

At the mention of Merlin's name, Aithusa's head butted against his chest with such force that Arthur almost overbalanced. He put a hand out to save himself and stared at the dragon.

"You do know where he is, don't you?" He said slowly. Aithusa paced the ground in front of him, her claws kneading into the soil. Arthur had seen her move before and knew he was witnessing a dragon in distress. It did nothing to calm his nerves over Merlin's safety.

"Where is he, Aithusa?" Arthur rose as he spoke, a sense of urgency entering his tone. "Can you take me to him?"

Aithusa looked at him before unfolding her wings and taking to the skies with one powerful flap. She didn't go anywhere though, but circled overhead before dive-bombing Arthur and resuming her circling. He knew how to take a hint.

Sprinting back to the horses, he threw himself into the saddle and wrenched the mount around. Ignoring Leon's startled cry, Arthur kept one eye on the sky as he galloped through the forest. Aithusa was clearly waiting for him because as soon as Arthur burst onto a clear path, she turned and flew east. She never moved out of his eye-line though and Arthur knew she was doing exactly as he had asked – she was taking him to Merlin.

When he found the warlock, Arthur didn't know if he was going to hug him or strangle him for making Aithusa – he certainly wasn't going to mention himself – worry in such a way. No doubt Merlin was hiding in the middle of Ealdor and Aithusa was too nervous to fly close to the village.

They rode steadily for a few hours. The horses were breathing heavily, but Aithusa wasn't slowing and Arthur knew his voice wouldn't carry if he tried to call up to her. Besides, he didn't think she would listen even if she heard him, not when she was taking them to Merlin.

The day drew on and Arthur was glad Leon had thought to grab some supplies. Arthur was beginning to wonder if they could keep the pace up when he saw Aithusa bank and drop back towards the ground. She was a few miles in front of them and it took a while before Arthur could make out where she had landed. His horse ignored the smell of dragon this time, tossing his head at the sound of water. Both Arthur and Leon slipped from the horses and led them to the small river that was bubbling through a clearing.

Trusting that his knight had his steed, Arthur once again turned to the dragon.

"Where is he, then?" Arthur asked. He could see no sign of Merlin and the trees surrounding them offered no good hiding places. And this was Merlin. Arthur knew if he was anywhere in the vicinity, they would have heard him by now.

Aithusa blinked at him.

"Were you just tired?" Arthur asked, wondering if she had reached the limit of her flying. The low growl and hiss of flame answered that question for him and Arthur stepped back, raising his hands slightly. He never realised dragons were so proud but it didn't surprise him. Placing his hands on his hips, Arthur slowly moved in a circle, relaxing his eyes and letting them examine the ground, their surroundings, even the forest… If Aithusa had brought him here, he knew Merlin had either been here or was nearby.

Just as he was about to give up, he realised that Aithusa was sniffing at something on the ground. She sniffed again, clawing at the ground before looking up at Arthur and growling. Then she repeated the process. When she did it for the third time, Arthur crossed over to her. He gently pushed her aside and examined the ground for himself.

"Leon!" His shout made Aithusa twitch but Arthur ignored her as his knight hurried over. Arthur straightened up and pointed at the ground. "Blood."

"Merlin's?"

Arthur looked to Aithusa, who looked back at him with big eyes. Arthur sighed.

"I think so. If the idiot is hurt, we need to find him before he bleeds to death." There was concern in Arthur's tone despite his words and Leon nodded. He drew his sword and immediately started exploring the edge of the forest. Arthur crouched down, putting his hand on Aithusa's head.

"We'll find him," he promised.

"Arthur!"

The king straightened up, hurrying over to where Leon was standing. The knight was staring at a tree and – feeling slightly bewildered – Arthur followed suit. It took him a moment to realise what he was seeing, then he groaned out loud.

"Someone tried to attack him," he said quietly. There was no denying the damage to the tree was done by something hitting it with a force. The type of force that Arthur believed Merlin's magic was capable of, especially with how it was acting at the moment.

"So where is he?" Leon asked. "If his magic is that powerful, surely he would have won?"

Arthur shook his head slowly, having no clearer idea than Leon did. Eventually, he sighed.

"Unless he was trying to stop the magic. He would have been more defenceless than usual if he was fighting himself as well." Arthur ran a hand over his eyes, trying to squash the headache threatening to build.

"What have you done, Merlin?" He breathed, lowering his hand and staring out into the forest. One glance over his shoulder revealed the horses were securely tethered and Aithusa was curled up on the ground. Arthur shifted the grip on his sword.

"Come on." He walked into the forest, knowing that Leon would be following him. There was no body, meaning whoever Merlin was fighting must have taken him with them. While it reassured Arthur that his clumsy Court Warlock was still alive, he knew the type of danger Merlin could be in right now. Giving him a position in court had just painted a target on his back and Arthur would never forgive himself if Merlin's title was now the reason he was in danger.

They hadn't been walking for long when Arthur held up a hand. They both stopped, and the audible sound of horses shifting made the two men glance at each other.

"They could be friends?" Arthur said tentatively.

"Waiting for us?"

"Good point," Arthur said. He grinned. "Let's go."

If it was a trap, it was the only clue they had towards where Merlin was. Arthur was prepared to spring it, knowing Merlin would do – and had done – the same for him more than once. They walked a little further, tense and alert.

"Stay where you are!" A voice shouted from the trees. Arthur stopped, sliding his sword through his belt.

"We mean you no harm," he called. He couldn't work out where the men were and his gaze flickered anxiously between the trees. "We're looking for someone. Maybe you can help?"

"What's in it for us?"

"Gold."

"You don't look like you have any."

"I am the King of Camelot," Arthur called, drawing himself up to his full height and lifting his chin. "And I give you my word you will be paid for any information you can provide us with."

"Perfect," a voice sneered. Before Arthur could shout a warning, there was the familiar twang of a bow being fired and Leon fell with a cry, clutching at his leg. Arthur dropped to his knees beside him.

"We mean you no harm!" He shouted angrily, resting a hand on Leon's leg. Leon was gripping it with both hands and when Arthur met his eye, he nodded.

"Do it."

Without a word of warning, Arthur yanked the bolt out of his leg. Leon gritted his teeth but stayed quiet as Arthur stood, sword drawn again. In that time, a dozen or so men had spilled from the surrounding area. Arthur swallowed. He couldn't take this many men alone.

"So, Your Highness," one drawled, stepping forward. He was a brute of a man with ugly scars crisscrossing his face and chest. "I hear you've lost your pet warlock."

"Where is he?" Arthur growled. He stepped forward, but paused when four bows were aimed at him.

"Come nice and quiet now and I'll take you to him."

Arthur frowned. "How do I know you're telling the truth?" he asked, his heart beating uncomfortably hard. The man seemed to be expecting that question though, for he reached down to his belt. He pulled free a scrap of cloth and Arthur felt the fight go out of him. He would recognise Merlin's scarf anywhere. He looked down at Leon.

"If I come with you, what happens to my friend?"

"He'll be free to go. We need someone to deliver the message of your capture and our ransom price, after all."

"Arthur, no." Leon gripped at his foot weakly, but Arthur stepped out of reach.

"This is all about gold?"

"Yes. You'll be returned when they pay."

Arthur didn't believe him. To subdue Merlin for long enough to hold him hostage meant these men were prepared. They didn't intend to just ransom the King of Camelot and his Court Warlock. But Arthur didn't see what choice he had. If he went, he would find Merlin and Leon would be spared. If he struggled, Arthur was fully aware he was signing their death warrants. He would be proud to go down fighting but Leon – and no doubt Merlin – were helpless right now. It would be a slaughter and he couldn't do that to his friends.

"Very well," Arthur said. He sheathed his sword and held up his hands in surrender.

"Arthur, no!"

The men were on him too quickly for Arthur to change his mind even if he wanted to. He didn't struggle as his hands were pulled behind his back and tied and his sword removed. Arthur glanced over his shoulder and tried to smile reassuringly at Leon. But the man only watched in horror, his face pale and his hands clutching at his wounded leg.

Then Arthur's world went dark as a piece of coarse material was tied roughly over his eyes and he was pushed forward.

He only hoped he hadn't committed his friends to death after all. There was nothing he could do to help them now.


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you so much for the reviews and support, it's great to know people are enjoying this. Sorry for the delay, real life got in the way a little bit._

* * *

"…lin? Merlin? _Mer_ lin!"

Merlin opened his eyes with a soft groan. He hated regaining consciousness. It hurt too much and he would rather surrender to the floating state he was in on a regular basis lately. He knew coming round was good, as it meant the men hadn't forced another dose of the drug into his body. Between that and the iron collar locked around his neck, Merlin couldn't feel his magic, let alone use it. Even after the fear of the last week, he would rather have his power than be without it. He knew that now…now it was too late.

"Merlin, I know you're awake. Shift your lazy backside, would you?"

Merlin forced his sluggish thoughts to pay attention to his surroundings rather than events that had led him to this point. He knew that voice. When it called his name again, alertness and awareness slammed into Merlin so hard that he gasped, scrambling upright and almost toppling when his body protested the sudden movement.

"You always tell me to take it slow when I wake up," Arthur said.

Merlin crawled across his cell, avoiding thinking about how hard movement was and how much his body was shaking. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten. He didn't know how long he had been here.

"Arthur? Wha-?"

"You think you can run away and get yourself kidnapped and I won't know about it?" The drawl in Arthur's voice was so familiar, so reassuring that Merlin let a reluctant smile tug at his lips. It felt good to have something to smile about. He wrapped his hands around the bars and heaved himself into an upright position.

"My magic… Arthur, I can't feel my magic."

"That's going to cause a problem."

Merlin blinked at the resignation in Arthur's voice. He expected the king to make some flippant comment about always being the one to come and save Merlin and how he was some sort of damsel in distress. But Arthur looked genuinely put out by Merlin's lack of power.

Only then did Merlin properly take note of his surroundings.

He hadn't pulled himself to the cell door as he had believed. His cell was barred on three sides with a cold stone wall on the fourth. He knew it was so the Saxons could keep an eye on their prisoners. But he had crawled to one of the walls rather than the door, staring through the bars at his king.

Arthur wasn't outside the door; he was in the next cell. With his sword and armour missing and manacles locked around his feet. Merlin's gaze followed the chain and his head clunked against the bars when he saw it was fastened securely to the wall by an iron ring. Merlin knew there would be no getting out of those shackles. The ones locked around his own ankles were testimony of that.

"What are you doing here, Arthur?"

"Well, it's a funny story really…"

"Arthur." Merlin was in no mood for games. He was cold, hungry, sick from all the potions they had been forcing into him and scared. He couldn't feel his magic and his destiny was locked up as well. At least, up until now, he had been keeping Arthur safe.

"Aithusa led me," Arthur said quietly. Merlin sighed, shutting his eyes. He had hoped the dragon hadn't seen the attack, but that clearly hadn't been the case. He never considered that Aithusa would fetch Arthur to try and help him.

"And you rode out alone?"

"Not alone." There was steel in Arthur's eyes and Merlin knew that whatever had happened, there was no point telling Arthur he had been a fool. Merlin knew that look. He knew it meant that Arthur wasn't going to back down but would stick by his actions and do the same again if he had to. Instinct told Merlin that someone else had been at risk out in the forest and he didn't dare ask. He didn't want to know if someone else had died because of him. He was trying to hold it together as it was.

"You shouldn't be here," Merlin murmured. He sunk down the bars, too drained to stand up any longer. His fingers rose to the collar, tugging and fiddling with it. He did the same thing every time he was awake, trying to pry it free but to not avail. The skin on his finger-tips cracked, worn away by chaffing against the metal and leaving small beads of blood on the metal.

"Stop it." Arthur's voice was firm and before Merlin knew it, his king had reached through the bars and pulled Merlin's hands away. "You're only going to hurt yourself."

Merlin glanced over at Arthur and tried not to worry over how hard it was to concentrate on the king's face. Arthur frowned and Merlin knew it was obvious how unfocused he was.

"What have they done to you?" Arthur said quietly. "Is it just the collar or-?"

He trailed off, not knowing how to ask. Merlin shook his head, tears burning in his eyes.

"They gave me something," he murmured. "It pushes it down even further. They would have never have got the collar on me otherwise."

He knew that, even though he had been unconscious when the metal had been clasped around his neck, his magic would have risen up and destroyed the collar before it let itself be suppressed. Merlin also knew it was because he had killed the men in the forest, despite not meaning to. The Saxons were taking no chance with him. For once, Merlin much preferred being underestimated.

"Where are we, anyway?" Merlin said. He needed to pull himself together. Arthur being in danger meant he couldn't think about the few days he had been here alone, cut off from his power and convinced he was going to die like a common criminal rather than the Court Warlock of Camelot. It had been a dark few days and Merlin wasn't proud of it.

"Nowhere pleasant," Arthur replied. Merlin glanced at him in exasperation and Arthur shrugged. "I don't know, they blindfolded me."

Merlin should have realised. If they had the collar and drugs ready, it meant the Saxons had been planning this. They wouldn't make any potential escape easy by letting their prisoners know where they were being held.

"Do you know what they want?"

Arthur shook his head, looking genuinely worried. There was a frown pinching the bridge of his nose and he combed his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"They told me it was about money. But it's not." Arthur spoke softly and Merlin watched his king closely. Arthur was agitated, more so than Merlin had seen him for a long time.

"What happened?" He asked, wondering if Arthur was ready to talk now. The king met his gaze briefly before looking away. Arthur moved to the back of his cell and leant against the wall, sinking down it. Merlin didn't blame him; leaning against the bars was uncomfortable. He hadn't mustered up the energy to return to the solid wall himself though.

"Leon was shot," Arthur said quietly. "They said they would let him live if I gave in. That someone had to deliver the ransom message. But if it's not about money…"

He trailed off and Merlin didn't know what to say. If they were lying about one thing, there was no telling they would keep their word and let the knight live. No wonder Arthur looked worried.

Somehow, seeing Arthur distressed gave Merlin strength. He curled his fingers around the bars and used them to haul himself upright. He closed his eyes, trying to adjust to the way his body was swaying. The world continued to spin even when his eyes opened again and Merlin swallowed hard, forcing himself to ignore the nausea rising.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked. He was watching with one eyebrow raised, but Merlin noticed the way his feet were drawn close to his body. It was nothing to do with Arthur being defeated. The king was trying to see if he could find a way to pick the locks and Merlin grinned. The Saxons might have planned to hold them both hostage, but they hadn't realised that knowing the other was in danger just fuelled their desire to escape. It was already working, for Merlin had all but given up until Arthur had woken him up.

"Getting out of here," Merlin muttered. He let go of the bars, took a breath and stumbled towards the door. He almost fell over, grabbing at it wildly to keep himself standing. Merlin was so proud that he made it he couldn't resist turning and giving Arthur a grin, only for the king to roll his eyes. Merlin turned his attention back to the door.

Sticking his hand through the bars, Merlin grimaced as he twisted, knowing that he was going to feel it in his shoulder. He was glad they had only shackled his feet rather than his hands, for he knew he wouldn't be able to twist around at this angle otherwise.

"Merlin, what are you doing?"

Merlin heard Arthur climb to his feet, but he ignored the man. Closing his eyes, Merlin trusted the door to support him as he tried to search himself. All he needed was a spark of magic, just a flicker would be enough to release the lock. He couldn't feel it though. He couldn't detect the warmth that normally ran through his body as his magic pulsed with every heartbeat. Gritting his teeth, Merlin pushed harder and harder, feeling the collar resisting his efforts. Sweat was beading on his forehead and Merlin was trembling.

" _Aliese!"_ He hissed, desperation forcing him through layers of consciousness that he hadn't been aware existed. For a split-second, he thought he felt something. Some bump, some tiny detection of magic and a slight tingle ran up his arm. But nothing happened. No magic left him and there was no satisfying click as the door opened.

But although he hadn't used magic, the effort made Merlin's knees buckle. He fell to the floor, banging his arm as it was pulled roughly back through the bars. There was a loud ringing in his ears and Merlin fought with everything he had to remain conscious. He couldn't protect Arthur if he was out cold!

The world seemed far away though and Merlin's head was swimming. He thought Arthur was calling his name, but he couldn't be sure. Everything sounded muffled and distorted. A loud clang sent ripples of pain through Merlin's head and he moaned, rolling over onto his side as a way of protecting himself, although he didn't know what from.

"Get away from me!"

Arthur's snarl broke through the haze in Merlin's mind. He blinked, alertness returning to his body. He wondered if his magic was reacting to Arthur being in danger on some level or whether it was his own determination to keep the prat alive that made him focus. Merlin shakily rolled onto all fours to see Arthur standing tall and straight, glaring at two guards who had stopped short. It seemed that even unarmed, the power of Arthur's glare was enough to make people hesitate.

But then a third man appeared, stopping outside of Merlin's cell. Merlin glanced at him and a panicked gasp escaped him before he could stop it. He made it back to his feet, pressing himself against the back wall and trying to keep as far away as possible as the man sneered and unlocked Merlin's door. There was a bottle in his hand and two men flanking him. Merlin pressed his lips together and turned his head the other way.

"Leave him alone!" Arthur yelled, moving forward. There was a brief struggle, but with his feet chained, Arthur was outmatched. The men got him to his knees and held him there, their biting grip keeping the royal down. Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, trying to press himself into the wall. There was something about this man that terrified him. It was a primitive reaction, one Merlin couldn't control. Every time he saw him, his legs trembled and his breath caught. The second time Merlin had met him, he had realised what it was. Just because he couldn't use his own magic didn't mean he couldn't sense the power coming from others.

This man oozed dark magic. His power was great enough that Merlin felt sick whenever he was near. The fact it was this man who had drugged him didn't help Merlin control himself. Merlin pressed his lips even tighter together, both to stop the man and to prevent the sob from escaping him.

"Don't touch him!"

Arthur's shout made Merlin swallow. His eyes opened and his shoulders dropped as he lifted his chin. He wasn't in this alone anymore. He was the Court Warlock of Camelot and Merlin decided it was time he started acting like it. He turned, facing the man and staring at him defiantly. For a split-second, his enemy looked taken aback by the change in Merlin's stance and the warlock lifted an eyebrow and the corners of his lips turned up in a slight smirk.

"Hold him," the man muttered to his companions.

"Merlin!"

Glancing over at Arthur, Merlin's grin widened when the king very deliberately nodded at him. Merlin knew what Arthur was telling him to do and he nodded back. When the men reached forward to grab him, Merlin ducked out of the way. He might not have had magic, but he had been Arthur's target for enough time to know a little of self-defence. He led the men around the cell, even managing to lock one out despite the chains on his feet not letting him leave himself. The second was snarling in frustration by the time Merlin realised he had cornered himself. He didn't panic though. He couldn't feel his magic; it didn't matter how far down the drug pushed it when Merlin couldn't reach his power anyway.

"Oops," he said, gesturing to how he had trapped himself. Then he kicked the man as hard as he could and gaped in astonishment when the guard collapsed, whining and groaning on the floor. Looking at Arthur, Merlin saw his master also looked impressed. Neither of them realised Merlin had that much strength.

But his victory was short-lived. Merlin made to step over the man, only for his feet to catch. He had to grab the bars to stop himself from falling. Trying to work out what had happened, Merlin gritted his teeth when he felt his ankle jerk. The man was pulling on the chain, an amused expression on his face. Snarling, Merlin held on tighter to the bar, determined that he was not going to be dragged over.

"Merlin, drop," Arthur commanded. Merlin – for the first time ever – did as he was told. He couldn't withstand the man's pulling, but at least this way, his journey to the floor was far gentler than falling. When he glanced at Arthur, it was to see one of the guard's had their hand over his mouth. It seemed not everyone appreciated the king's advice and Merlin gulped as the man advanced on him. Not knowing what else to do, he scurried back a few paces on the floor, but there was nowhere for him to go and they both knew it.

Although he saw it coming, Merlin couldn't prevent himself from crying out when a hand gripped his hair harshly, yanking his head back and exposing his throat. Merlin could feel the collar sitting heavily around his neck but he refused to show his fear as he was once again made to take the contents of the bottle. He did so without a fight, waited until the man had backed off and spat the contents over the floor. The punch caught him heavily on the jaw and Merlin had no choice but to accept a second lot of the potion. The man forced him flat on the floor, holding a hand over his mouth and nose until Merlin swallowed for real.

Tears burned his eyes as the man backed off. He sneered at Arthur as he left, grabbing the still moaning guard and banging Merlin's door shut. The guards left Arthur and within a few moments, the two prisoners were left on their own again. Merlin didn't move from his positon on the floor, trying to steady his breathing as a way of bracing for what was coming. He had already appeared weak in front of Arthur, he had no intention of doing so again.

"Merlin? Are you alright?"

"Mm hmm," Merlin said through gritted teeth. His body was trembling as the drug coursed through his body and Merlin dug his nails into his palms.

"What was that? What did he give you?"

"Not a good time, Arthur," Merlin muttered. He could feel it coming and breathed deeply through his noise, adamant that he was going to control himself. A roar was filling his ears again and although he could hear Arthur asking questions, Merlin couldn't work out what he was saying. He couldn't have answered even if he had heard though, for his jaw was locked, tension racing through him.

As the shaking got worse, his magic being further suppressed, Merlin twisted around to look at Arthur. The king was gripping the bars, kneeling as close as he could with an expression that – if it had been on anyone else – would have resembled terror. But Merlin knew Arthur better than that; the man ran into danger, not away. He was never scared.

Deep down, he knew that wasn't true. He tried to smile reassuringly at him.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"What for?"

Merlin never had the chance to answer. That was when the pain – sheer, blinding pain – hit and his back arched. Despite his best efforts, Merlin couldn't stop himself from screaming.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you so much for the lovely reviews, it really means a lot to me._

* * *

Arthur's voice had always been loud, especially when summoning him for some meaningless chore in the middle of the night. But Merlin wasn't sure it had pounded through his head in the way it was now. Every sound felt like a knife being dragged across his skull and Merlin groaned. At least, he tried to as he couldn't be sure if the sound escaped his mouth. A shrill ringing in his ears helped drown out Arthur's persistent questions, but not entirely.

"Merlin, if you're dead, so help me, I'll…"

Merlin opened his eyes.

"You'll what?" His voice was weak and hoarse, but he knew this time he had managed to speak. Steeling himself, he placed his hands on the floor and rolled over until he was able to look through the bars into the other cell. He caught one glimpse of Arthur and blinked. "You look like hell."

"You don't exactly look peachy yourself," Arthur retorted. Merlin would have grinned if his entire body didn't feel like it was being stabbed with a thousand tiny daggers. Without saying anything, he began the gruelling task of pulling himself across the cell. When he could collapse back against the bars, Merlin did so, letting out a groan. The cell swum alarmingly and he could hear Arthur once again asking if he was alright.

"Give me a minute," Merlin mumbled, not wanting to waste his strength on speaking. He wouldn't feel well for some considerable time, but Merlin knew this initial pain would fade away and his stomach would settle. The drug had run its course and Merlin wondered how long he had been out of it for this time. Arthur truly looked dreadful; his face was ashen and his knuckles white from where they were gripping around the bars. Arthur would never admit to caring. But Merlin knew his master, and knew for Arthur to witness him screaming and not be able to help or punish those responsible was a greater torture than anything the Saxons could put them through.

A hand reached through the bars and Merlin smiled gratefully at the small bowl of water Arthur passed him.

"Have you had some?"

"Yes."

Merlin wasn't sure whether Arthur was lying or not, but he knew once the king had made up his mind, there was nothing Merlin could do about it. He took a sip, sighing as the cool water was a blessing on his ravaged throat. The hours of screaming weren't doing him any favours.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked bluntly when Merlin passed the bowl back through. Merlin caught Arthur's gaze, then looked at the floor and shrugged.

"I'm not about to start screaming again, if that is what you mean. Did anything happen while I was out?"

Arthur shook his head. "They came down a few times but they seem to be waiting for you. They ignored me."

"Good," Merlin muttered. He would much rather he was the target, at least it meant he could keep Arthur safe one way or another. He looked back at Arthur and something caught his eye. He nodded to it questioningly and Arthur grinned as he brought the stolen dagger out from the bottom of his shirt.

"They're not too observant," he said. Merlin smiled, a more genuine expression this time. Arthur was a threat even unarmed, but with a weapon in his hand, Merlin knew their captors would find it hard to get close to the king without being made to pay for it. Before he could say anything though, the sound of the dungeon door banging open made the two men look at each other.

Arthur quickly hid the dagger under a scattering of straw before sitting on it. Merlin had no idea if it would work, but couldn't think of anything better either. He didn't move. There was no use – he wasn't going to be escaping and he wasn't yet recovered enough to attempt fighting back. His jaw ached too much from the punch from before.

He sat quietly as the dark sorcerer from before returned with two guards. He clicked his fingers and the chain binding Merlin's feet to the wall fell lose. His ankles were still chained together, but no longer attached to the wall. The guards strode in, grabbing him roughly under the arms and hauling him to his feet. Merlin stumbled as they dragged him out of the cell, trying to struggle and look back at Arthur at the same time.

"Leave him alone!" Arthur yelled, but the king was ignored as Merlin was pulled from the dungeon. His feet caught on each step and it was only the men's grip that stopped him from falling. He wanted to pretend to act weak in order to deceive them, but the truth was he just didn't have the strength to stand. The potion was a potent one.

That didn't stop his mind from working though. Merlin took careful note of every turn he was led down, trying to remember how many guards he saw where. He knew Arthur was going to ask him about it when he was returned to the dungeon. If, of course, he was returned and not just killed.

They didn't walk for long before the doors to a great hall flew open at a gesture from the sorcerer. Merlin rolled his eyes at the man's showing off, wondering who he was trying to impress. If it was his prisoner, he was failing spectacularly.

Merlin was dragged in and he tried not to gape. The hall was run-down, but it was huge and Saxon banners were strung everywhere. Merlin couldn't work out if it looked impressive or absurd but was forced to his knees before he came to a conclusion.

Looking up, he saw a chair large enough to be a sort of throne. The man sitting upon it certainly was holding himself like a king. Instantly, Merlin felt his spine straighten and his shoulders drop as he climbed to his feet. Standing tall and proud, he glared at the man. There was only one king, and Merlin had sacrificed far too much to get Arthur to where he was now for some pretender to act like this.

One of his guards shoved him in the back. Although Merlin stumbled, he remained on his feet. He turned and shot the man a glare, pleased when he took an uncertain step back. But Merlin's victory was short lived; a harsh pressure pushed down on him at the same time as his knees buckled and Merlin hit the floor hard. The sorcerer stepped over him with a sneer.

"He has no power; you do not need to fear him."

Merlin would have come up with a witty comeback if he wasn't too busy trying to convince himself the man was wrong. His power might have been suppressed, but Merlin knew better than to believe it was gone. If there was one thing he knew about his magic, it was that he didn't understand it at all. Whatever it was supposed to do, the opposite tended to happen.

"I thought you needed his power, Ragnor."

Merlin forced himself to kneel upright at the gravelly voice coming from the throne. The voice was hoarse and Merlin instantly recognised it as one who had inhaled too much smoke. He would have felt sympathy for the man, only he suspected it was due to fires he himself had lit rather than some trauma in his past.

"I need his blood, My Lord. His power still runs through his blood; he just has no connection to it."

" _He_ is here," Merlin said loudly. He made to stand, but the guard had overcome his fear and moved to stand behind him. Merlin stayed where he was; he had no intention of being beaten.

"So he is," the man said slowly. He stood, advancing on Merlin. Merlin didn't flinch. He had lived for years under Uther's nose – it was going to take more than some pretender to scare him. Besides, he had Arthur to think of. Not having his magic didn't mean it wasn't still his responsibility to make sure the king was safe. The pretender reached out and took hold of his chin.

"Much planning was needed to bring you here, warlock."

"My name is Merlin," said warlock spat, wrenching his head away. "And I don't care if you had to plan for years, I demand that you release me."

"You are in no position to demand."

"I am the High Warlock of Camelot. I'll demand whatever I damn well please." Merlin didn't realise he had got to his feet. He didn't notice the guard back off in fear of the way Merlin was talking to his leader. The man looked at him with a raised eyebrow, before sinking his fist straight into Merlin's stomach. While Merlin struggled for breath, another blow landed on his back and he was on the ground again. Merlin groaned, but sucked in a breath and looked up.

"Show me some respect and I'll let you live."

"What do you want from me?" Merlin muttered. His confidence had vanished. What was his title without the power to back it up?

"I'm glad you asked," the man rasped. "Ragnor, tell him."

He strode back to his throne, but the sorcerer stayed where he was. His arms were folded and he did not look happy about being told what to do.

"Your blood and power will become part of a spell," Ragnor muttered. "A spell so strong that no one will be able to touch My Lord Hybald without suffering great pain."

"Won't work," Merlin said, feeling cheerful all of a sudden. "My magic might be powerful, but protection spells only work if the blood is given willingly. So you may as well just let us go now because I will never help you."

"You will," Hybald said. "Or do you forget that you are not the only one currently residing in my dungeon? I'll leave you to consider how helpless you are without your magic."

He gestured and Merlin felt his arms grabbed. He didn't look away from Hybald though.

"Don't you dare," he said quietly. "If you so much as touch him…"

"Then give me your consent now and this can all be over with."

Merlin clenched his jaw and glanced away. He couldn't help their enemies. If his blood was used for this protection spell, even if his magic came back, he wouldn't be able to stop Hybald. Everything they had worked for…and he would be the catalyst to undoing it all.

He also couldn't let them hurt Arthur.

Merlin had no idea what to do.

He offered very little resistance as he was taken back to the dungeons. His mind was churning over everything that he had been told. He didn't know if Owaine was part of it or whether his attack on Arthur had been coincidental. Merlin was beginning to think not; it had resulted in him losing control of his power which was how he had ended up here in the first place. Arthur was going to be furious when he learnt he had been betrayed by one of his own nobles. Merlin considered not telling him, then his feet hit the dungeon steps.

"Merlin!" Arthur's voice was hoarse and Merlin wondered if he had been shouting this whole time. He was against the door of his cell, the chain around his ankles taut as he strained to see out. Merlin straightened and forced himself to walk properly rather than be dragged.

"I'm okay," he said. He wondered if his voice sounded as weak to Arthur as it did to him. The potion and the collar were beginning to take their toll. Merlin wondered if that would be his solution; isolation from his magic for too long would kill him. But Ragnor knew what he was doing and Merlin knew they would turn on Arthur long before Merlin had the easy escape of death.

Arthur didn't blink as Merlin was pushed into his cell again. Merlin tried to grin as his legs were re-shackled and the door locked again. But Ragnor was still in the room and Merlin couldn't offer Arthur the reassurance he knew his king needed. The sorcerer stalked closer, glancing between the two of them. Merlin knew he shouldn't look so concerned – the more worried he was, the more likely they were to make good on their threats and use Arthur against him. But he couldn't help himself, swallowing and glancing at the king before looking back to Ragnor. Arthur still didn't blink, just stared coolly at their enemy.

" _Geb_ _í_ _nd!"_

Ragnor lifted both hands and Merlin yelped when he felt his hands being drawn behind his back and bound there. Ragnor turned and swept out of the cell and Merlin turned to Arthur, only to groan when he saw the same had been done to his master. Escaping was getting harder and harder.

"So," Arthur drawled. He turned, finally blinking and looking away from where Ragnor had disappeared. He sat down, looking like he moved with his hands bound the whole time. "Care to tell me what that was all about? What do they want from you?"

"Nothing," Merlin said. He also sat, but stumbled over his own feet and landed on the floor with a thud compared to Arthur's graceful descent. Silence met his word and when he looked at Arthur, it was to see the king watching him with a disbelieving expression.

"Try that again," Arthur said drily. Merlin rolled his eyes. Now his big secret was out of the way, it was like he couldn't hide anything from Arthur anymore.

"Fine, they want my life."

At Arthur's prompting, Merlin told him everything that had occurred in the hallway. Arthur's expression morphed into one of fury when Merlin told him about Hybald and how the man clearly wanted to make himself king. Merlin wrapped up by explaining how they told him to think about it and had brought him back to the cell. He conveniently forgot to mention how Arthur's safety was the crux of the matter. Silence fell when he finished speaking, but Merlin realised Arthur was still watching him with the same disbelieving expression.

"What?"

"What haven't you told me?"

"Nothing!"

"Merlin, you would be sitting here relaxing if that was all that happened. I know you – you won't let yourself be used for dark magic like that. So they have done something that is making you consider it like the idiot that you are."

Merlin sighed and leant back against the bars. "Why do you think you're here, Arthur?"

"They said it was for mo-," Arthur trailed off. Merlin looked at him and nodded.

"They're going to come for you if I don't agree."

"You're not agreeing, Merlin."

"But-,"

"That's an order," Arthur snapped. Merlin sighed, wishing he could run his fingers through his hair. Arthur continued in a softer voice. "If what you say is true and you agree, everything we have built, everything we have worked towards will be lost. And I'll be standing in his way, so they'll kill me. You know I speak the truth. You have nothing to gain by giving in."

Deep down, Merlin knew that Arthur was right. His casual mention of how they had worked together stopped Merlin from arguing. It was nice to know Arthur realised he couldn't have made it this far alone, even if Merlin wished the recognition had come at a better time and place. Eventually, he swallowed.

"I can't watch you be hurt and know that it is my fault," he admitted quietly.

"It's watch me be hurt or watch me be killed. If you agree, we're both dead. If you are sensible for once and keep your mouth shut, the others might find us. Besides, I am the King of Camelot. I do have a few skills of my own, I'll get us out of this."

Although he would never admit it, Arthur's confidence made Merlin feel better. The silence that fell this time was companionable and calm. Merlin thought he even dozed a little. But when the door to the dungeon banged open again, terror gripped at him.

"Arthur-,"

"It's alright, Merlin," Arthur said gently. "Everything is going to be alright."

"Time's up," Ragnor sneered as he stalked closer. "Have you made your decision?"

"How does it feel?" Merlin asked. "Knowing you are serving a man who would dismiss you in an instant if he could find someone more powerful?"

Fury flashed over Ragnor's face and his hand lifted. Merlin braced himself, but the spell never came. Hybald moved into the dungeons, his gaze locked on Arthur. He clicked his fingers and guards unlocked Arthur's cell. Merlin's heart pounded.

"Leave him alone," he said. He struggled to his feet, drawing himself to his full height and staring at Hybald. "I'm the one you want; let him go."

"Do you agree then?"

Merlin looked at Arthur. The guards had dragged him out of the cell, but had such a hold on him that Arthur wouldn't be freeing himself. But the king caught Merlin's eye and shook his head warningly. Merlin shut his eyes and breathed an apology to his king.

"No."

"Very well." Hybald nodded and the guards dragged Arthur into the centre of the room. Ragnor swirled his hands and murmured a complex spell. As the invisible bindings holding Arthur's hands fell away, Merlin was slammed back against the wall and held fast. He tried struggling, especially when he saw the guards force Arthur's hands above his head and lock manacles around them. Arthur was on tiptoes, barely balancing. But Merlin couldn't move so much as an inch and he glared at Ragnor. The man smirked and turned away.

"You have one last chance to be reasonable," Hybald said. Merlin stared, horror causing shivers to run through his body as Hybald pulled out a whip.


	9. Chapter 9

_Thank you so much for the great reviews! Also, thank you to "guest", to whom I cannot respond directly to, but I really appreciate your reviews!_

 _Hope you like this next chapter. One more to go after this!_

* * *

"I can't."

Merlin shut his eyes as he spoke, knowing his words had sentenced Arthur to pain, if not death. But the king was right; they would be killed as soon as the spell was complete otherwise. This way, there was a chance for Arthur to escape. Merlin opened his eyes, lifted his chin and stared defiantly at Hybald. He glared the best he could while being chained against a wall. The man nodded slowly.

"Very well." Hybald gestured to the guards either side of Arthur. One reached for his belt, then frowned in confusion, glancing to the other side of his waist. The other rolled his eyes, pulled out his own dagger and sliced it up the back of Arthur's shirt, leaving the material hanging loosely from his arms. Merlin's heart skipped a beat as he glanced into Arthur's cell, seeing the stolen dagger half-buried in the straw. He had no way of reaching the blade and even if he did, everyone in Camelot knew their High Warlock was useless with any weapon that wasn't magical.

Hybald stalked closer to Arthur, taking a firmer grip on the handle of the whip. Merlin swallowed hard but kept his mouth shut. He knew what Arthur wanted from him and he was _not_ going to be the reason that everything they had built was destroyed. He wasn't sure he had the strength to remain defiant though, not when Arthur was about to be hurt. The king was more than his master and Merlin mutely shook his head, wishing for a way out of this.

"Merlin," Arthur called. His voice was as commanding as ever despite his precarious position and Merlin instantly looked to him. Arthur tried to smile. "Look at me. It's going to be alright."

Merlin swallowed again, then nodded and locked eyes with his king. Arthur's fingers flexed as he tried to relax and Merlin willed himself to remain strong. He had to, for Arthur's sake. If this whipping took place, Merlin knew it was going to be up to him to get them out of here, with or without his magic. Arthur nodded encouragingly and Hybald growled.

"Gag him if he speaks again," he muttered. Arthur gave him a withering look.

"How much of a coward are you? You have me chained and weapon-less, yet you fear what will happen if I open my mouth? Are your men's loyalty so weak that a few words from me will turn them against you? Is your sorcerer so unruly you fear I can sway him with the promise of gold?"

Hybald snarled. He thrust the whip at one of the guards and snatched up a length of material, winding it tightly around Arthur's mouth. But Merlin saw the guards glance at each other and realised Arthur was right. The men were not as loyal as Hybald wished; this man ruled by force alone. Ragnor looked unconcerned though. Hybald snatched the whip back and Merlin knew Arthur had made things worse for himself. There was anger and hatred flashing in Hybald's eyes now.

"One last chance."

"Go to hell," Merlin said quietly, his words burning with conviction. Hybald sneered –as if he was hoping for that answer – drew his arm back and brought the whip slashing across Arthur's back. Merlin winced at the sound but didn't dare look away. Arthur's jaw had locked and he stared stonily ahead, no flicker of emotion crossing his expression as the whip was brought down again.

Five blows had fallen and Arthur was rigid, sweat beading his forehead when Merlin felt it. As the next blow fell, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach, as if something was being tugged. Unable to stop himself, he gasped, but no one heard him. Their attention was focused on the panting king and Hybald's arm drawing back again.

"S-stop," Merlin spluttered, but the pain took his breath away and only Ragnor glanced at him. The seventh blow fell and the tug happened again, causing Merlin to cry out and hang limply in the magic holding him to the wall. Everyone looked at him this time, but Merlin stared at the floor, trying to understand. Hybald sneered and turned back to Arthur. As his arm raised again, Merlin understood what he was feeling. Trickles of magic were sparking through his body.

Two more blows fell, and each time Arthur was harmed, Merlin's magic wrenched itself free. The drugs and the collar meant nothing compared to their destiny and his magic had been created to protect Arthur. No spell was going to hold him down when his king was in danger. As the tenth blow struck Arthur's back and the king's hands tightened instinctively in pain, Merlin looked up. He didn't need to see himself to know his eyes were burning gold. He felt his magic had returned properly.

"My Lord!" Ragnor cried. He didn't move, didn't make any effort to try and protect his master. Hybald paused and looked over.

"You said you had him secured!"

"Step away from the king," Merlin said. His voice was not the weak, pain-filled one from before. It radiated power and the two guards glanced at each other again before hurriedly backing off. Hybald only raised the whip again, a sneer on his face.

"There's nothing you can do, warlock," he spat. As he brought the weapon slashing down towards Arthur, Merlin's chin jerked out. The handle of the whip instantly erupted in a fiery heat and Hybald let go with a curse.

"Stop him!" The man screamed, backing up towards the exit as he did so. Merlin glanced at Arthur and saw the king's eyes were closed. Merlin didn't know if he was conscious or not, but could see the heaving of his chest and knew that, at least for now, Arthur was alive.

"Your power is gone," Ragnor growled, unlocking the door with a wave of his hand. Merlin smiled and felt his magic race through his body. He stepped away from the wall, the chains and bindings melting away as if they had never been there. Ragnor flinched and backed up a step, uncertain at seeing the ease with which Merlin had overcome his power.

"My power is destined to help this land," Merlin said quietly but strongly. "Yours will never overcome mine."

He stepped forward again and Ragnor continued to back off. Then he realised that Hybald had fled and he turned to face Merlin.

"You could rule the world."

"Do you know how many people have said that?" Merlin said, irritation flaring to life. "It is not my destiny. Now, surrender and run after your master. But if you continue to stand in my way…"

He trailed off, knowing that he wouldn't need to finish that threat. This was different to the man he had killed in the woods. He knew precisely what he was doing, he was in complete control. And this time, Ragnor was posing a direct threat to Arthur and Merlin was not going to stand by and let that happen.

"Never." Ragnor stepped forward. Merlin felt Ragnor drawing on his own power by the sickness in his stomach and he shivered. But he wasn't defenceless this time. Lifting his hand, he cried a single word so strong that the walls seem to vibrate with the force of his power.

The collar around his neck tore off, flying through the air. Ragnor saw it coming and screamed, attempting to dive out of the way. But it was no good; the metal caught and locked around his own neck. Instantly, the dark power receded and Ragnor swore and cursed. He glared up at Merlin from his knees, his eyes feeling the same horror that Merlin had experienced. But while it took both the collar and the drug to keep Merlin suppressed, the metal was enough to block Ragnor's power.

Knowing the man wasn't a threat anymore, Merlin turned to Arthur. Holding out his hand again, he directed his power on the shackles holding the king prisoner.

" _L_ _í_ _esing,"_ he commanded and the chains released Arthur. Then Merlin realised his mistake.

"Damn." Letting his instinctive power take over, Merlin slowed time enough for him to make it across the room and catch Arthur's falling figure. Time resumed and he bucked under the king's dead weight. Both of them hit the floor, but Merlin was quick to start looking at Arthur's back.

"Idiot."

The word was nothing more than a breath. A beaming smile split over Merlin's face when he realised Arthur was looking back at him.

"You're alive."

"Honestly, Merlin, your powers of observation…" Arthur trailed off as he tried to move and his face went deadly pale. Despite his unconcerned tone, Merlin knew the king was in a great deal of pain. Merlin carefully helped him sit up, acutely aware he had nothing here to treat Arthur with.

"Get me the knife," Arthur muttered, his eyes closing as he did so. Merlin frowned but retrieved the stolen dagger. Arthur clutched it and Merlin understood. He felt the same about his magic. For far too long, they had been defenceless. Now, they would take everything they could get.

"Where's Hybald?"

"Gone," Merlin murmured. "I've stopped Ragnor's power. We need to get out of here, Arthur."

"You don't say. Help me up, would you?"

"You can't walk." Merlin protested even as he took Arthur's outstretched arm. He knew trying to deny Arthur wouldn't get him anywhere. Arthur swayed once he was on his feet and Merlin sighed at the sight of the blood running down his back.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "This is my fault."

"Don't even go there, Merlin," Arthur said. "Save your breath for directing us out of this place."

Arthur staggered towards the dungeon steps. Merlin wanted to protest, to claim Arthur wasn't strong enough to move. The words died in his throat. At least once they were out of here, they could stop and rest in safety and the open air would be far better for Arthur than the damp cells. Determined to force his master to rest once they were somewhere safe, Merlin sighed and hurried after Arthur.

"You'll never get out of this place," a voice rasped. "We planned for too long and for too hard to let you walk away."

Merlin turned to see Ragnor had made it to his feet. His face was pale but the sword in his hand meant Merlin knew not to underestimate him. The collar around Ragnor's neck was visible and Merlin heard Arthur's intake of breath as the king also turned.

"You can walk away from this," Merlin said quietly. "Enough blood has been shed."

"I'll walk away when you're dead!" Ragnor lunged forward. Merlin's hand lifted, but his mind went completely blank for a spell that would save him. A hand grabbed the back of his shirt and Merlin stumbled as Arthur wrenched him back out of the way. Merlin tried to move back in front, determined he was going to protect the man properly this time. But Arthur let out a yell as he drew back his arm and threw the knife. Merlin could only imagine how much that had hurt, but his eyes followed the path of the blade instead. He glanced away as it struck with a soft thump and Ragnor fell to the floor. This time, Merlin knew the man wouldn't be coming after them.

Merlin turned to thank Arthur, only to see that the man was half-leaning against the wall, his eyes shut and his breathing fast. Before Merlin could say anything, Arthur doubled over and wretched weakly. Blood glistened on his back and Merlin felt himself overcome with weariness.

"Come on, Sire," he said gently. "Let's go home."

Merlin knew Arthur was badly hurt when the king allowed his servant to pull his arm across his shoulder to aid him. There was no comment about Merlin being too weak, no protests over Arthur believing that he could walk fine by himself. Merlin's concern increased ten-fold and he stayed quiet as he navigated them out of the dungeons. Arthur needed his strength to walk and Merlin knew his master well enough to know that Arthur would never let him have the last word, even if it was in jest.

Merlin wasn't sure if it was instinct or magic that led them out of the castle. It certainly wasn't a conscious decision on his behalf which way to turn at the end of each corridor. Arthur was heavy and Merlin had spent far too long in the cell with not enough to eat or drink. Now he could feel his magic again, he felt awful. The drug was still in his system and he could feel the internal fight going on within him.

Once they were out of the dungeon, Merlin found Arthur's armour and weapons with a quick flick of magic. He sent the armour back to Camelot – at least, he sent it somewhere and desperately hoped it was back home – and returned the man's weapons to his belt. He didn't realise Arthur noticed until the king's hand gently brushed along the hilt of his sword and some of the tension left him. They both knew Arthur would be more useless than Merlin in a fight right now, but it was clear the weight of the sword was reassuring to the man.

But Merlin couldn't focus on it now. He had to get Arthur to safety. The man was conscious, putting one foot in front of the other, but Merlin knew throwing the knife had caused more pain than Arthur would ever admit. Knowing the warlock had his magic back had no doubt driven away the last of Arthur's adrenaline and now he was struggling. The fresh air helped revive him a little and Arthur lifted his head.

"East," he said weakly. Merlin turned in that direction – knowing Arthur knew better than him – and continued to guide his monarch through the forest. Only an hour of walking went by before Merlin lowered Arthur to a log, making sure there was nothing behind him to catch on his back.

"We have to keep going," Arthur said. "We need to put more distance between us and them."

"I can't." It took a lot for Merlin to admit it. He had suffered for silence in years while hiding his magic, often not being able to reveal an injury due to the forbidden nature of the quest he had been on at the time of receiving it. But no physical pain came close to what it had felt like being cut off from his magic. That coupled with it being out of control beforehand was making Merlin's head spin and he carefully crouched down next to Arthur before he fell down.

"Merlin?"

"You're too heavy," Merlin said, trying to deflect the attention. "And your back needs treatment."

"I can still walk." Arthur shifted and then winced before fixing Merlin with a look the warlock couldn't hold. "What is it? You have your magic back, don't you? Are you still out of control?"

Merlin shook his head. "The effects seem to have cancelled each other out."

The warlock sighed, running his hand through his hair. For a moment, he just looked out through the trees and let himself be soothed by the calming nature surrounding them.

"I'm weak, Arthur. The collar, the drug, my magic…It's like it's taken a physical toll." He avoided Arthur's gaze. He was used to taking care of other people. But he knew if they pressed on and he lost consciousness, Arthur would be vulnerable. His destiny came above his pride and Merlin slumped against the log that Arthur was sitting on. There was no scathing comment though and when Merlin looked at Arthur, he saw his master was watching him with an expression that almost resembled sympathy if Merlin didn't know the man better than that.

"Get some sleep, Merlin."

That was not what Merlin had expected him to say and he stared. "But…"

He gestured around them, indicating that they were in the middle of nowhere and Arthur was hardly able to defend them like this. Arthur shrugged and agony shot over his expression too fast for him to cover it up. Merlin was halfway to his feet before Arthur held out a hand to stop him.

"I'm hardly going to be able to sleep," he said. Merlin knew that was the closest Arthur would get to admitting his own pain. "So I'll keep watch."

"And if someone comes?"

"Then I'll wake you."

Merlin opened his mouth to argue, then realised that he didn't have a good enough reason to protest. He had been the one to stop and if he didn't get some rest, they would be stuck here for even longer as Arthur didn't look capable of walking unaided. Merlin had been away from the castle for too long; it felt like an age since he had rested easily and without fear of either enemies or himself. He still wasn't sure which had posed the greatest threat, but he knew he was exhausted.

"Go on," Arthur said. His voice was soft and gentle. "Get some rest."

Merlin was sagging before he realised he had agreed. He knew Arthur, knew the man would take it as a personal challenge to make sure nothing disturbed Merlin's rest after what they had just been through. Arthur hadn't been able to escape and so he would try and make up for it now. Deep down, Merlin felt safe, knowing the king was on guard.

That was his last conscious thought before he fell into a deep sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

_Thank you again for the kind reviews, especially those I cannot respond directly too. Time for a final chapter._

* * *

"..lin? Merlin!"

"Go 'way." Merlin lifted a hand, feebly flapping it in the direction of the voice. He didn't want to get up and no amount of nagging from Gaius was going to make him move. Arthur would have to fend for himself for a moment longer.

"Merlin!" His name was accompanied by a sharp kick in the leg and Merlin shot up with a gasp, memories flooding back. He wasn't in Camelot and it wasn't Gaius waking him up. For a wild moment, Merlin thought something terrible had happened as the world around him was dark. Then his senses caught up with him and he realised it was night. He hadn't been asleep for that long.

"Arthur?" He glanced at his master. Arthur was standing, his hand tight around the hilt of his sword although he hadn't yet drawn it. Merlin felt that was because he couldn't - the movement would be too much for him - rather than believing the threat wasn't serious enough. Merlin had no doubt Arthur had sensed something out there. He wouldn't have looked that concerned, nor would he have woken Merlin up for less.

"Voices," Arthur said tersely. Merlin scrambled to his feet, then bit back a groan. He ached all over and he knew spending a week in a dungeon was not the only reason why. The drug had yet to leave his system, even if it had been rendered useless, and Merlin was feeling the effects. Arthur shot him a concerned look but Merlin ignored him. If there were enemies close by, he could feel ten times worse and still not let that stop him from protecting Arthur. He had failed too many times lately.

They stood in silence for what felt like an age to Merlin. He could feel his magic racing through his body and it made him realise how safe he felt with his power. He was never taking it for granted again once this was over. Just as he was thinking of a tactful way to ask Arthur if he had been sure, he too heard voices drifting through the trees.

Arthur's face was set and Merlin knew if this wait dragged on much longer, the king was going to try and find the source, despite barely being able to move. Merlin released a trickle of magic and both men watching the blue light snake and twist over the ground until it disappeared into the trees towards the voices. Merlin shut his eyes, reaching out for the slither and trying to sense if there was any danger. He was braced for the worst when a rush of familiarity shot over him.

His eyes snapped over and he relaxed.

"What is it?" Arthur – as always – had been paying more attention than Merlin had ever given him credit for. He had seen the change in body language and already his hand was loosening on the sword.

"Friends," Merlin said simply. "Come on."

Taking Arthur's arm and ignoring his protests, he helped Arthur move forward. The magic was still active and this was one of the few times that Merlin knew he was heading the right way. He followed the magic, feeling the connection getting stronger and stronger. When the voices were clearly audible, he let go of the spell and the magic faded away. But he didn't need it any more, not when Percival was in the next clearing with a band of trusted knights.

Merlin's head was down as he rounded the trees, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and not dropping Arthur. He initially thought it was his own weakness making Arthur feel heavier, but then he realised the king was leaning more on him with each step. Merlin's heart gave an uncomfortable thump. He had been around Gaius for long enough to know that Arthur needed help.

"Arthur! Merlin!" Percival's shout reached them seconds before the large man stumbled to a stop in front of them, staring. His gaze darted from one to the other as he clearly tried to work out what was going on. Merlin knew he had some explaining to do – it was his fault for fleeing Camelot in the first place. It was his fault that both of them had been captured and Arthur had taken the brunt of that. But for now, he gratefully passed Arthur over.

"He's hurt," Merlin muttered. Percival didn't get a chance to glimpse at Arthur's back before the king realised he was in the presence of his knights and he straightened up. Merlin rolled his eyes at Arthur's ashen complexion, ignoring Percival's concerned look. If Arthur was going to move that suddenly, he would be lucky to not pass out. But telling the king that, however, wasn't worth the effort. Merlin knew what Arthur was like.

"Leon." Arthur said simply, trying to look around the men as if expecting his friend to be there. Percival softened and smiled gently.

"He's going to be fine, Sire. We got him back to Camelot and Gaius has his work cut out for him trying to get him to stay in bed rather than riding out with us."

Arthur nodded, a little colour coming back into his cheeks. He gripped Percival's arm and tried to stand tall.

"We return to Camelot immediately then," Arthur said.

Merlin shook his head when Percival looked at him for guidance. Merlin grinned when the knight nodded in response and lowered Arthur to the ground. It was hard to tell if Arthur even noticed.

"I'm sorry, Sire. You need to rest first."

"But…"

"Shut up and sleep, Arthur," Merlin said bluntly. Percival had listened to him in regards to Arthur's health long before Merlin's secret had been revealed. But now he had an official position behind him and the knights knew not to argue with their High Warlock. This time was no different; the men spread out and began setting up perimeters and bedrolls while their king pouted in the middle of it all.

"I-,"

"Do you have supplies?" Merlin asked, ignoring Arthur. Percival nodded, heaving over a bag. Merlin stifled a grin at seeing it was full of medical supplies – they clearly knew Arthur too well. But his amusement faded when he considered how they found Leon and couldn't blame them for coming prepared. Hybald's men had told Arthur that it was about money yet no ransom would have ever been sent. There was no telling what had been going through their minds.

Merlin quickly built a fire and felt a small thrill when he lit it with magic. It was the same feeling he used to get just after Arthur had given him permission to use his power. It felt good to be back in control and to know his magic was starting to help Arthur again. Percival helped and between them, they got a pot of water boiling over the flames and bandages and rags soaking. Arthur was quiet throughout the whole process and when Merlin turned to him, it was to see his eyes were shut.

Arthur was lying on his stomach, his arms cushioning his head from where he had clearly been watching them. But his breathing was even and Merlin was loath to disturb him. Percival handed him the first cloth and Merlin knew there was no choice. They had gone too long without treating his back as it was.

Biting his lip, Merlin gently started wiping the blood away. He cleaned a patch of Arthur's back before the cloth caught the first wound and Arthur jerked awake with a hiss of breath. Percival shifted position and Merlin saw that he was shielding Arthur from the rest of the men. They were friends here; Arthur didn't have to feel ashamed of hiding his pain.

Not that it stopped him from trying though. His whole body was rigid and he was breathing as hard as he had done during the whipping when Merlin tied the last bandage into place. It wasn't ideal – he had to loosen a few to make sure Arthur had enough movement to get home – but it was the best he could do until they reached Camelot. He had learnt the hard way that meddling with healing spells was dangerous, especially how exhausted he was.

"I'll find some food," Percival said. He moved away to give them some privacy.

"Thanks," Arthur said gruffly. Merlin smiled and stretched out, lethargy seeping into his limbs.

"Any time. Actually no, don't make me do that again."

"It was hardly my choice," Arthur muttered, shifting to a more comfortable position.

"You didn't have to goad him," Merlin said, following suit and stretching out on the ground. If Arthur answered, then Merlin didn't hear it. As soon as he was in a comfortable position, sleep stole up on him despite his earlier rest. Treating Arthur had drained him and Merlin ignored his growling stomach and closed his eyes.

By the time Percival returned, both the king and his warlock were fast asleep.

MMM

"I really can't believe that I'm about to say this, but get back into bed, Arthur."

Merlin put his hands on his hips as he stared at the king, one eyebrow raised in an accurate impression of his mentor. Gaius had paled fast when he saw the blood-splattered bandages on Arthur's back on their arrival in Camelot and Merlin was sure he heard him mutter something about being too old for this.

If anyone asked, Merlin would say that he was forcing Arthur to rest just to save Gaius from having to worry. He certainly wouldn't admit to his own concern. Not now they were home and everything was back where it belonged, including the relationship between king and warlock.

It hadn't exactly been a restful time since they had returned. Owaine had been tried and found guilty of treason. Merlin knew Arthur couldn't decide whether to banish him or follow his father's method and execute him, as well as worrying the repercussions of either action. Patrols had been sent out, but Hybald and Ragnor had both disappeared.

Arthur looked up from where he was sitting on the edge of his chair. His face was still pale but his eyes were glittering in determination. Merlin knew the king was feeling better. But after three days of battling a fever, he still had a haunted look and Merlin had no intention of letting Arthur get sick again.

"I can't," Arthur said. There was a stubborn set to his jaw and Merlin knew he was in for a battle. But there was a bonus to being the High Warlock of Camelot and sparks of magic flickered across Merlin's fingers, dancing from one to another as the magic flooded his irises."

"Don't make me force you," he said quietly. They had gone through too much; _he_ had gone through too much to lose Arthur to his own stubbornness. Arthur visibly swallowed but he shook his head.

"Do you know how long I was out there looking for your sorry backside to save? Reports don't complete themselves, _Mer_ lin, I have things to do."

"You're not well though." Merlin refused to be guilt-tripped even as he let the magic drain away again. They both knew he wouldn't do it. He would never use his magic against Arthur, even in jest.

He had left to protect Arthur, he had to come to terms with that. The three hour talking to Gaius had given him the night before had helped; he could have hurt everyone if he had stayed, he had acted in what he thought was Camelot's best interests. No one could fault him that and now Merlin had to accept it himself. It was easier with his power back under his control.

"I'm hardly doing anything strenuous, Merlin. Signing my name is within even my abilities."

"Don't you get it, Arthur?" Merlin turned away, brushing his hand through his hair as he tried to control his frustration. He felt like he was about to burst and this time, it wasn't due to any spell. "You could have died out there!"

"We've been through worse," Arthur said calmly. But Merlin wasn't prepared to listen, not with Arthur being so stubborn. He didn't want to acknowledge that the king was right, not this time.

"This was different!"

"How? I would say my almost-death was far worse."

Merlin flinched. Any reminder of that time made him feel light-headed and faint. Seeing Percival and Leon together made the feeling worse; their numbers should have been far greater than that. But that wasn't the point and Merlin forced himself to push it from his mind.

"Not this time."

"What is wrong with you?"

"I…" Merlin turned to stare at his master, his friend. Arthur had one hand resting on the table, looking as if he was about to rise. But the fact he hadn't moved said a lot – Arthur was fully aware how much moving cost him right now.

"It's all my fault," Merlin whispered. Tears blurred his vision as he let himself tackle the emotions for the first time since they had got back. He knew he had to leave Camelot when his magic was out of control, it had been the right thing – the only thing – that would benefit both him and the kingdom. He had needed answers, he understood that.

But Hybald had given him a straight choice: Arthur or helping them. He could have stalled for time, pretended to help to give Arthur a chance to fight his way free. The spell might not have even worked; Merlin knew the blood had to be given of a free will and blackmail hardly counted. But he hadn't. He had flatly refused and Arthur had been the one to pay the price.

"Merlin…"

"I should have said yes. We would have found a way out, we always do. Spells like that must be handled with care, they wouldn't have had everything they needed to hand. We could have escaped if you could fight…"

"Then how would we get the collar off your neck?"

Merlin's hand instinctively rose. His neck was bruised but he was hiding the marks under a scarf. He had never realised how much he had tugged and struggled against the metal until Gaius had examined him and tutted under his breath. He rubbed it self-consciously and realised he didn't have an answer.

"Maybe it was meant to be this way," Arthur continued, looking thoughtful. "You're the one always talking about destiny. Maybe I had to be hurt for your magic to throw off the restraints and actually work as it should. Even if we had found a normal way out of the collar, you might have still been out of control. This might be the only way you could have returned to Camelot."

Merlin blinked, staring at Arthur. The king was right; if Merlin's magic hadn't exploded out of him, there was no telling what his power would be like if they had even managed to free him from the collar. But Merlin had no intention of admitting that Arthur might be right, nor was he prepared to let go of the guilt just yet.

"You shouldn't have been the one to pay the price for that."

"I wasn't. We both were. You didn't see yourself in that cell, Merlin. I thought…" Arthur glanced away and Merlin realised he wasn't the only one whose emotions were getting to him about what happened. But when Arthur looked back, he was in control the same way he always was.

"What?"

"I thought you were going to die in there. I've never seen you so pale and when you screamed…" Arthur shuddered, then winced. Merlin knew for all his barbed comments, Arthur respected the pain and injuries Merlin had sustained over the years in his service and never complained about. He knew Merlin was brave, so the fact he had screamed had said a lot about how he had been feeling.

"Sorry," Merlin muttered. He could feel a flush working up his neck. He wasn't used to making Arthur worry in such a way.

"Don't be sorry," Arthur sounded exasperated. "Just realise that I would have taken more than a few lashes if it meant keeping you alive."

It was Arthur's turn to blush and Merlin grinned. A weight lifted from him and Merlin had to brace himself to stop from swaying on the spot. Arthur might have come out of his fever but Gaius had told him that it was going to be a while before the effects of having his magic suppressed wore off. Merlin hadn't told Arthur though; he didn't want the king to worry even if he wouldn't say it.

He couldn't shake the guilt though. He knew it would be a while before he would. But when Gwen chose that moment to slip into the room, instantly going to her husband and resting a hand against his forehead, Merlin was able to smirk at the eye-roll Arthur sent his way. He knew this was the moment to leave his friends in peace.

"Merlin?" Gwen called him back. Her hand was on Arthur's shoulder and Merlin knew the king wouldn't be able to say no to her even if he had refused to listen to Merlin. His master was in good hands. Gwen smiled gently.

"Thank you, for bringing him home. It's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back," Merlin said, genuinely meaning every word. He made it out of the door, but didn't return to Gaius'. Instead, he made his way out into the courtyard and passed through the city gates, moving into the forest. Once he was sure he was alone, Merlin tipped his head back and roared from a deep part of his soul.

Arthur was in good hands and Merlin knew that Leon would heal. But there was one other creature that had been effected by the experience and Merlin fully intended to spend the rest of the afternoon with Aithusa and make sure the young dragon understood that he was safe and she didn't have to hover protectively over the castle. Merlin knew he was not the only one to have seen a white speck against the sky since their return.

As he waited for her, Merlin allowed himself to breathe deeply. Arthur was right; they had been through worse. And just like every other time, they had survived and become stronger for it. Merlin could once again believe in his destiny.

 _The End._


End file.
